The Snake Within
by arkkitehti
Summary: During the Christmas holidays of his fifth year Harry realizes that he should do something to keep things from spinning completely out of his control. He proceeds to make new allies and embraces his more Slytherin side to make use of his considerable resources.
1. Chapter 1

/ disclaimer

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**The Snake Within**

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**Chapter 1**

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Harry woke up in his room at Grimmauld Place with a raging headache. It was the Christmas Day, but Harry didn't feel like celebrating. This whole year had been one disappointment after another, but somehow it had still managed to end up in an all time low for Harry. First Voldemort had managed to gain a new body in a resurrection ritual last June, after which Dumbledore had simply dumped Harry back at his relatives without any information about what was going on. And he had even made sure that Harry's friends hadn't as much as tried to tell Harry anything at all. For the sake of his safety, he was later told.

Then there had been the minor inconvenience of dementors trying to feast on Harry's and Dudley's souls - not that Dudley had much of a one. And later the ministry officials wouldn't believe anything what Harry was saying, but were rather trying to convict him for "unreasonable use of under-age magic", all the while the Wizading Britain's only major media outlet, The Daily Prophet, was declaring him "deranged and dangerous". And then, when finally the worst summer ever was over and Harry was able to return back to Hogwarts - the place he felt most like home in - the ministry had again decided to intervene, this time in shape of new defence teacher who was torturing Harry in name of "detention". Also most of the other students apparently believed what the Prophet had told them all summer.

But the real reason why Harry felt like he did wasn't anything above; the latest blow was Ron acting like Harry was a Dark Lord, or perhaps even The Dark Lord. You see, Harry had had a vision, or a dream, about being a snake and attacking Ron's father, Arthur Weasley in a hallway somewhere. As it happens, Arthur was then found in said hallway unconscious, bleeding from a snakebite. After that dream - or vision - Harry and the Weasley children had been evacuated from Hogwarts to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix in the Black family ancient home at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London, where they were to spend the Christmas holidays.

Normally Harry would have been happy to get away of Umbridge, Snape and the Slytherins to see his godfather Sirius, but the fact that Ron had distanced himself from Harry to the point that he had demanded and got a room of his own at the admittedly huge house, and the fact that every other Weasley seemed to act carefully around Harry too (even the twins were cutting down their usual twin-speak and pranks) made him feel uncomfortable to say the least. Sirius acting like nothing was wrong and trying to spread Christmas spirit to his guests served only to emphasize the insincerity of it all.

So, although there were a good sized pile of presents at the foot of Harry's bed, Harry couldn't find himself getting enthusiastic about it at all.

"Harry wake up!" came the voice of Sirius from the hallway "It's Christmas! You need to open your presents!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake" replied Harry weakly. Hopefully presents will get some sense in Ron's thick head, and the Christmas may yet be enjoyable, mused Harry. Although having your father in hospital after a near death experience would dampen anyone's Christmas spirit.

Harry got up, showered, washed his teeth, put some clothes on and started to open his presents. There were the customary book from Hermione (the book, 101 Offensive Spells and Curses and Their Counters, would probably make a good handbook for DA meetings, and Hermione had already marked most interesting chapters for Harry), assortment of candies from Ron (including Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans that Harry couldn't stand and usually ended up giving Ron), a new handmade jumper from Mrs. Weasley and another book about defence from the DA group collectively. Sirius and Remus had compiled a book called "The Best of Marauders: 17 Greatest Pranks and How to Replicate Them", completed with photographs extracted from pensieve memories.

Somewhat encouraged from the presents, especially the one from Sirius and Remus, Harry went down to the kitchen for breakfast, where rest of the people were already eating and conversing happily. The atmosphere flattened a little when Harry came in as Ron stopped talking at the middle of a sentence, but it was quickly recovered by Molly who came bustling to Harry and ushered him to the table.

"Eat up, dear, we have long day ahead," she said while loading Harry's plate with breakfast and pouring pumpkin juice in his glass. "We'll go to see Arthur at the hospital soon after we have eaten. Take some toast, I'll get the bacon ready in a jiffy."

The conversations around the table started again, although the fact that Arthur was missing from the table couldn't go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius had dressed in red robes and hat and was doing his best to lighten the mood, but Harry just couldn't share his enthusiasm. And how he had waited for his first real Christmas with Sirius around!

The breakfast was quickly over, and the Weasleys plus Harry started preparing for their trip to the hospital.

- O -

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was the primary medical institution of Wizarding Britain. It treated all kinds of wounds, countered every type of curses and healed various diseases. On the Christmas Day the reception hall was full of families coming to visit their relatives in the long term observation ward, and bringing in children who had been a little bit too enthusiastic when playing with their new toys. There was a reason why brooms had warnings against giving them to children under eleven, but then Quidditch was a hugely popular sport and all those magazines were full of stories how this and that international Quidditch superstar had caught his first snitch at the age of five. Now that Harry thought about it, there were probably stories about how _he_ had done it when four.

The receptionist was a middle aged witch with her hair up on a neat bun, and she showed them to the right direction. Arthur had been moved from the "Magical creatures and Animals" ward to monitoring at the sixth floor after the biggest threat from the poisoning was over, and a quick trip with elevator later and after a while of searching for the right door Harry and the Weasleys were next to Arthur's bed. Arthur was smiling, although one could clearly see that he was still somewhat pale after his ordeal.

"Nice to see you all, and happy Christmas," came Arthur's greeting when they were all in. "Good to see you too, Harry, I heard it was your quick reaction that saved my hide last week."

It didn't take long before Harry excused himself from the room. He was feeling more than a bit outsider, as the others were still uncertain how to relate to Harry's vision. And Arthur was their family, after all. Harry wandered around the corridors looking for a bathroom, when someone shouted for him.

"Hey there young man! My name is Gilderoy Lockhart! You want to have my picture autographed?"

Harry was shocked. So this was where Lockhart went after he had accidentally obliviated himself at the Chamber of Secrets.

"Oh, you have found a new fan, Gilderoy!" a new voice came behind Lockhart. "He is such a dear, you know, always ready to cater for the needs of admirers," the nurse explained to Harry.

"Right."

"Lets get back to your room, Gilderoy, you can sign one of those new postcards you had made last month."

Harry was left alone at the corridor, wondering about what had happened back in his second year. Sure Lockhart had been an idiot and a total fraud, but still losing one's sanity was a bit extreme as far as punishments go. But he didn't have much time to wonder before he was woken from his thoughts by a familiar voice calling his name.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" Neville asked. He had just come out of the elevator with his grandmother, an imposing looking old lady named Augusta Longbottom.

"Neville? I was visiting Arthur with the other Weasleys. They are still with him, and I wanted to give them a bit privacy. But what are you doing here?"

Neville looked down. "I came to see my parents," he said quietly.

"Oh. What's happened to them?"

"Nothing," Neville replied. "They've been here as long as I can remember." The last sentence was barely audible, and Neville's grandmother supplied explanation as she noticed that Neville wasn't up to it.

"They were tortured into insanity by Death Eaters shortly after the downfall of Voldemort. Dumbledore told them it was safe to come out of hiding as Voldemort was no more, but the Lestranges and Crouch junior were still free. Neville was saved only because he was staying with me that night."

Harry didn't know what to say. It was perhaps even harder to grow up knowing your parents were alive but insane and visiting them regularly than it was to be a genuine orphan.

"Well," Harry said, when he finally found his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that. But don't let me keep you from your visit."

"Nonsense!" countered Augusta with a voice that allowed no objections. "You will come with us. Frank and Alice were very good friends of your parents. They visited each other regularly while they were hiding under the fidelius charm, and if I remember correctly Alice was Lily's matron of honour when she married James."

As Harry didn't have anything else to do, and the Weasleys seemed to take their time with Arthur, he simply shrugged and followed the Longbottoms to a private room with two beds. Once there Harry looked from sidelines as Neville gave his Christmas greetings and tried to communicate with his unresponsive parents, while Augusta was holding a supporting hand on her grandsons shoulder.

Eventually they left the room, Neville holding a piece of wrapping paper his mother had given him. Once they were back at the elevators, Augusta turned around and addressed Harry.

"It was good to see you, Harry. Neville has so few friends and they don't really come visit often, and the manor feels so empty with only us two and the elves around. You must come to celebrate New Year with us, you can bring the other boy, Ron Weasley was it, with you as well".

Harry looked at Neville, who looked somewhat startled at his Grandmothers invitation and also happy at the possibility of having friends around during holidays.

"I'll see if I can get there," replied Harry. "Ron's mother can be extremely protective about her children, and sometimes it seems that she sees me as one as well. But if I can I'll be there, thanks for the invitation."

- O -

Back at the Grimmauld Place Harry sought out Sirius. Something he had heard from the Longbottoms troubled his mind. He hadn't known that his parents had been good friends with the Longbottoms, and he wanted to know more. There was so much he didn't know.

But the main thing was the similarities between the fates of his and Neville's parents. They were both of similar age, they had both had a baby boy at nearly the same time (with Neville being only one day older) and apparently they had both been hiding under fidelius charm as per Dumbledores recommendation.

"Hey Sirius, could we talk for a bit," Harry asked as Sirius was decorating the second floor sitting room with Christmas lights and mistletoes.

"Sure, pup," Sirius replied while climbing down from the stool he was using to hang Christmas lights to the walls. "Who's the bird you need help with?"

"What? No, no this isn't about any girl, Sirius. I wanted to ask something about my parents."

"Oh... Well, anyway, ask away" answered Sirius with a slight disappointment, but still eager to help his godson with whatever bothered his mind.

"You see, I saw Neville and his grandmother at St. Mungo's, he was visiting his parents who are there at the permanent spell damage ward after being tortured insane at the end of the last war."

"Yes, Frank and Alice. I heard about them from Remus. My lovely cousin Bellatrix' last job before going to Azkaban," Sirius growled the last bit.

"Yeah, well Augusta told that they too were hiding under the fidelius charm at the same time as my parents, and their stories sounded so similar that I wondered if it was how usual for couples to go hiding near the end of the war."

"Well, I always figured it was about them getting you and Neville that caused them to go hiding, but now that you put it that way it sure does seem to be a bit off as far as things go. I mean, there were other people with newborn children too. The Abbots, the Bones, the Lovegoods, Weasleys... Well, the Bones were killed, but that was only after your and Neville's parents had gone hiding, so it couldn't have been their reason for hiding."

"That's what I thought too. There's also the fact that apparently it was Dumbledore who was behind them going into hiding, or at least Dumbledore was the one who convinced the Longbottoms that it was safe to come out after Voldemort was gone."

"Now that is perfectly understandable. They were all active members of the Order during the war, and Dumbledore was the leader and the obvious choice to go for advice."

"Oh. maybe I was just grasping for something more. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe I just hoped that there would have been some kind of reasonable explanation to why my parents died the way they did, but I guess that's the way war is. Nothing makes any sense."

"Yes, well... Let's talk about something happier, it's Christmas after all, and you should be celebrating like all the other kids, not brooding about wars. Now, tell me about the girls at the school. What are they like?"

Harry groaned. He really didn't want to talk about this, but it was still good to see Sirius getting back to shape and being more optimistic about things in general.

- O -

Three days later the Order of the Phoenix was called together in their first meeting since the attack that saw Arthur hospitalized. The Weasley patriarch had been released the same day, but he was still weak from the poisoning. Voldemort's snake had been, not surprisingly, a magically enhanced one, and the venom had been a particularly nasty piece of work to heal. Mrs. Weasley was hovering all over her husband making sure that he didn't overexert himself, and Mr. Weasley was weathering the attention with long practised patience. There really wasn't anything to deter Molly Weasley when she had set her mind onto something, and trying would only be an exercise in futility, something Arthur didn't feel like doing just for fun.

The children had been ushered upstairs away from the kitchen that was used as a meeting room, but that only meant that they had to sacrifice some of their comfort laying in awkward positions at the second floor landing to get close enough to the kitchen door to get the extendable ears, a product the Weasley twins Fred and George had been able to create using some of the funding Harry had provided them the previous summer, into position for eavesdropping.

Sirius had detected their activities earlier, but he didn't seem to mind too much. Instead he was somewhat proud that the twins were continuing the noble pursuit of the Marauders, and the fact that they had went through the trouble of inventing new tools for their trade in itself meant that in the eyes of the old Marauder that they had earned any information they might be able to get. Not that the Order really ever talked about anything really important or sensitive during the meetings.

So, as Dumbledore was calling the meeting in order, Harry, Fred and George were listening in on the extendable ear, that was stretched to the limit to cover the distance between the kitchen door and the second floor landing of the stairs. Ron had elected to stay in his room, being still vary of Harry. Harry had gotten used to Ron's attitude at this point, but it was still hard for him to see the first friend he had ever had to be like that.

"You really should figure out a way to extend the range of these ears of yours," Harry said, having managed to get the twins surrender the hold of the earpiece. "Maybe even do some research on wireless ones."

"Wireless?" one of the twins, who Harry guessed was Fred, asked.

"What do you mean by wireless?" George added, mirroring the interested expression on his brothers face.

"Well, without this stupid string," Harry answered. "That way we wouldn't need to lay on the floor, and there would be nothing coming out of the door for Tonks to trip on."

Fred and George shared a meaningful look that told Harry the next version of their eavesdropping device would probably be, as Harry had said it, wireless.

"Good thinking there, Harry my friend," Fred said.

"Yes, absolutely splendid idea. It's a shame we don't have more than this year at school with you, or we could have made a prankster out of you yet!"

"Shh! Quiet, I think they are finally getting to the point," Harry whispered, concentrating on the voices from the kitchen. They had finally got over the initial greetings and were starting to talk business.

- O -

The kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place had been chosen as the meeting place for the simple reason that it had been the only room big enough that had been cleaned of all kinds of nasty creatures and dirt when the first meeting had been held in the house. It also had a nice atmosphere, unlike the formal dining room or the large ball room, which were the other large enough rooms that had been considered. Possibly because the kitchen had not been used regularly by the Blacks but mostly by servants and house elves, and thus lacked the usual décor of annoying portraits of pureblood supremacist and stuffed heads of different kinds of more or less sinister creatures stuck on the walls with permanent sticking charms.

"I call this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to order," Dumbledore called, raising his hands to silence the idle chatter that the members were engaged at: Christmas greetings, gossip about close and distant family relatives the members shared and had met during holidays, arguments about comparative strengths and weaknesses of different Quidditch teams. "The first point on today's agenda is the recent incident at the ministry. It seems that the news of the enemy being after the item in the Department were, in fact, correct, and that he is starting to actually act in favour of getting it in his hands. As you no doubt have heard, Arthur was attacked by Voldemort's snake while in guard duty at the Department."

There were nods all around the table, accompanying shudders from hearing the feared name. This had been the first injury the Order had suffered during this war, and the members were starting to wake up to the actual dangers of what they were doing.

"Now, it is of utmost importance that the enemy doesn't gain possession of the item, so I propose we continue guarding. I also wish to stress that even though the position is deep underground in the Ministry, one must not let their vigilance drop," Dumbledore continued.

"Is there any way we could transfer the item to a better location?" Mad Eye asked. "The corridor isn't exactly the most defensible position, and the Unspeakables are getting more and more suspicious that there's something going on on their Department."

"I am afraid that we can't move the item even if we wanted. The magic protecting it is of most effective type," Dumbledore answered.

"But surely not effective enough to stop you?" Professor McGonagall asked. "If even you couldn't take it out of the Department, then surely there shouldn't be any need to guard it at all, should there?"

There were accepting nods all around. It was widely known that Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard in the world. In fact he was the only one Voldemort had ever feared.

"I fear that Voldemort wouldn't have nearly as much trouble acquiring this item as I would," Dumbledore admitted, starting to get a bit agitated about the inquires. He really didn't want to let the knowledge of the prophecy to get on the wild. There would be tremendous pressure on Harry, and Dumbledore really didn't want to pile any more weight on the boy's shoulders.

"What exactly is this mysterious object, anyway?" Sirius asked. He had noticed some of the agitation on Dumbledore, and as he himself was confined in the Grimmauld Place he wanted at least to know what was going on.

"I'm sure the Headmaster would have shared that information already, if he was going to," Snape answered. The greasy haired potions master had clearly been waiting for an opportunity to provoke Sirius. "And I fail to see any reason why _you_," he stressed, "of all people, would need to know anything. All you do is play housewife while the others risk their lives on the field."

Sirius shot his most threatening look at Snape, who simply responded with his well practised sneer.

"There's no need to fight between friends," Dumbledore interrupted, before either of the two had time to do anything more than glare at each other. Sirius snorted on Dumbledore's choice of words.

"But I believe that Severus is right. The information is exceedingly sensitive, and the way I see it, the fewer people know about it the better."

The members were nodding uncertainly and looking around the table at that comment. Sure, there were information that was better not shared too freely, but somehow it would be easier to prepare for guard duty if you knew what it was you were guarding. But Dumbledore was in charge, and no one was going to question his authority on the Order missions.

"So it is concluded that we stay on guard on the department, and increase our vigilance," the headmaster continued. "Now, on to the next point. Has anyone anything new to report? Kingsley, Nymphadora, could you tell us first about what the Auror force has heard and seen."

Tonks bristled as the headmaster mentioned her hated first name. She had repeatedly asked him to not to do so, but Dumbledore seemed to ignore her completely. As Tonks was fuming, her partner Kingsley Shacklebolt told the order what little news there were from the DMLE: director Bones was prepared to err on the side of caution but as the minister was still in denial she didn't have funding or permission to actually do anything. After Kingsley every other member also relayed their information, and at the end it was Snape's turn to tell them the latest from Voldemort himself.

"The Dark Lord is still gathering his forces. There have been very careful inquiries made to different pureblood families that are considered neutral at the moment, but it seems that he wants to first acquire what we are guarding at the Ministry. All of his other plans seem to hang on that single piece, and he doesn't want to make himself known before his plans are ready to be executed."

"That's good," Dumbledore said. "Now, the final point of concern is Harry's apparent connection with Voldemort. Severus, I want you to teach him to protect his mind against any further visions."

"What!" the potions master yelled. "You want me to teach the brat occlumency? He has no aptitude for anything like that, he is simply too arrogant and likes himself too much, just like his father."

"Now, Severus, it's of utmost importance that he learns to protect himself, even though his vision proved useful in saving Arthur. I'm afraid that Voldemort might try to use the connection for his own purposes," Dumbledore explained. "And you are the best suited to teach him."

Now it was Sirius' turn to be angry. "You can't mean that! Harry and Snivellous hate each other, there's no way Harry could learn anything from him! Why don't you teach him yourself?"

"I'm sure the headmaster has more important things to do than waste his time trying to instruct some brat," Snape said, sneering. "And I don't see you being able to do much either, you mangy mutt."

"Calm down you two," Dumbledore said, raising his hands again. "Harry learning occlumency is very important, but I can't teach him myself. I have my reasons that are not open to discussion here. Professor Snape is the only choice, he is one of the best occlumens in the world, and I trust he and Harry can put aside their differences for this important goal."

Dumbledore looked around as Sirius and Snape were still glaring at each other. "That was all. I call this meeting to close. Have a good new year, and keep your eyes and ears open for anything that might prove useful," he said, raising up from his chair.

The members of the Order started to leave, discussing what they had heard in the meeting.

- O -

That night Harry was laying in his bed, thinking over what he had learned that day. Something kept nagging in his head that it all had something to do with him, and Harry was angry that Dumbledore was trying to keep him in the dark.

_He says he just wants to keep me safe, but how safe can I be when Voldemort seems fixated in killing me? And why is he so damn persistent about it? Sure, it must be embarrassing for a Dark Lord to not to be able to kill a defenceless baby, but still, that was my mothers doing, not mine_.

_And now Dumbledore is keeping secrets from the Order too. He wants to keep them in danger without even knowing what it is they are guarding, _Harry thought_. And it's not like there was any danger that some of them might tell Voldemort what it is, as he already knows! Or he wouldn't try to get his scaly hands on it in the first place._

_And what could it be? They say that it's something Voldemort didn't have last time, but from what I've heard, he didn't really have much trouble dealing with the ministry idiots and the Order in the last war. He was pretty much steamrolling everyone at the time he came after me._

Harry opened his eyes.

_He. Came. After. Me. What was it that I heard from the dementors? My mother screaming Voldemort to not to kill me, but to kill her instead, and Voldemort asking her to step aside... as if he really was after me, not my parents. Bloody hell, don't say this too really has something to do with me! Why me? All I've ever wanted is to be normal, is that really all too much to ask? And now Voldemort is focusing all his attention in getting some kind of super secret weapon just to make sure he can get rid of me. Yey, and all I'm told is that I should stay safe and not do anything. While the ministry is doing everything they can to discredit me and get my wand snapped..._

_And Dumbledore! He knows exactly what is going on, but he doesn't tell anyone. Instead he insist on keeping his secrets and just telling people what they need to or must not do. As if he thought everyone else were just children that needed to be kept safe!_

Harry turned over, trying to sleep. It was remarkably hard to try to calm down when you had just realized that the most powerful Dark Lord in a few centuries was hell bent in trying to personally end your life, going as far as putting all his other plans on hold to get the final piece he needed to do so.

Thoughts were racing around in Harry's head. About his parents that had died because of him. About himself. About why in the hell a Dark Lord would find it necessary to personally kill a one year old baby. _On the other hand, it's not like sanity ever was a strong point for Dark Lords_, Harry thought grimly.

He thought about how his existence put everyone around him in danger. He thought about Hermione. About Sirius. About Ron. _Well, Ron at least seems to have realized that I'm dangerous to be around, seeing as he hasn't even asked me to play chess with him during the whole holiday. Maybe it's all for better_, he thought.

Finally Harry thought about Cho, feeling somewhat guilty that she crossed his mind only after all those other people. But now that he thought about it, he wasn't really sure what it was that he felt about Cho. He had had a crush on her since third year, but after she had cornered him in the Room of Requirements and kissed him under the mistletoe, crying, he wasn't really sure if he should continue with her. Hermione had been right, she hadn't got over Cedric yet, and was seeking some kind of support from Harry. And Harry really didn't feel like he was up to supporting anyone at the moment. More like he needed the support himself.

And now that Ron was distancing himself from Harry, Harry had one less person supporting him. Not that Ron had done much supporting anyway, now that Harry really thought about it. He had helped Harry to keep up the illusion of normalcy, but it hadn't changed anything about the undercurrents of bizarre circumstances that followed Harry everywhere he went. Just like now, when those circumstances had once again swept Harry away with them, Ron was gone, not trying to support Harry.

_No doubt he will eventually come back with the chessboard, when things have calmed enough around me_, Harry mused, not little cynically.

Now that he really thought about it, he really only had Hermione to rely on. Sirius was a fugitive, and that severely limited what he was able to do. The professors didn't want to take him seriously. Like McGonagall who had repeatedly dismissed his worries when he had tried to reach for her support. Or Dumbledore, who would come all grandfatherly and eyes twinkling when he was laying in the hospital wing after yet another near death experience, offer some cryptic words of encouragement and say that Harry wasn't ready yet to carry the weight of knowing what the hell was going on. And then award some ridiculous amount of house points in the end of year feast, as if those would make Harry feel any better about staying yet another summer with the Dursleys.

_I really need to make some more friends_, was Harry's final thought before darkness finally got better of him, and he fell asleep.

- O -

The last few days before New Year went fast for Harry. He had spent most of the time browsing through the extensive library in the Grimmauld Place looking for any references about the department of mysteries. Harry was determined that whatever it was that was in there was something that would eventually be used against him, so he really wanted to know beforehand. He had survived in the graveyard last summer only by luck and coincidence, and he really wanted to be better prepared when the next time would inevitably come. Unfortunately the Blacks didn't really have any books on the inner workings of the ministry in their library, and Harry doubted any public recruiting brochures would contain the information he wanted either. Not that he had access to said brochures either.

Ron had continued to keep his distance from Harry, but Harry had seen him getting impatient as he had no one to play chess or exploding snap with. And Harry spending much of his time in the library didn't really encourage Ron to come seek his company.

Harry had also talked with Sirius about everything that had happened during the term. Sirius had agreed that it was important for Harry to learn to protect his mind, and had also grudgingly agreed that Snape probably was the most qualified teacher for the job if Dumbledore himself wasn't willing or able. He had also given Harry a book on occlumency from the library, so that Harry could learn at least the basics before subjecting himself to Snape's most likely limited mercies. Harry had also told Sirius about his plans to visit the Longbottoms on New Years eve, and Sirius had seen no problems with that.

So, as the evening of the New Years eve came closer, Harry was up in his room getting ready for the visit. He had asked Sirius about what to expect from such a visit, and when Sirius had learned that Harry didn't have any clothing apart from his muggle hand me downs - which weren't really suitable for visiting anywhere - and school robes, Sirius had immediately started searching the house for proper clothing. And after a rather lengthy argument with Kreacher Harry was proud second owner of Sirius' younger brother Regulus' robes from the seventies. They weren't really of the latest fashion, but the quality was fitting for the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and they were definitely nicer than anything else Harry had. Buying new clothing was added to Harry's growing list of things to do.

- O -

"It's good to see you here, Mr. Potter," Augusta Longbottom greeted Harry as he was dusting his robes after stumbling out of the fireplace. "There are all too few visitors at the manor these days, and it gets awfully quiet with only Tippy doing her chores around the house."

Harry looked around. The Longbottom ancestral home was very different from the Black one in London. There were large windows showing surrounding countryside, and the last rays of setting sun were flowing freely into the large, beautiful foyer illuminating various paintings and an ancient looking suit of armour standing in one corner with warm light. Even with the impressive size and imposing décor the place had distinct feeling of home in it, something what the clinically clean home the Dursleys owned never had. Harry couldn't help but feel jealousy towards Neville for what he had here, even if he too was an orphan like Harry.

"Thank you for your invitation, Lady Longbottom," Harry said, bowing slightly. Sirius had reminded that the old woman was strict with tradition, and as this was Harry's first time visiting an old wizarding home, he couldn't help but feel a little bit scared about it all. Petunia had drilled Harry about manners when she had hosted her tea parties where Harry had been forced to serve, but those were completely different type of people.

"Please, there's no need to be so formal. Potters and Longbottoms have been friends for generations, there's no need to end that tradition now. You can call me Augusta."

"Thank you, Augusta, I'll try. And you can call me Harry," Harry answered, noticing once again a bit of information about his family he hadn't known before. A slight tinge of guilt about how he had more or less ignored Neville during his years at school washed over Harry, as he followed Augusta further inside the large house.

"It's been a long time since these halls last saw parties the sort they were built to witness," Augusta told Harry as she led Harry towards dining room, nostalgia heavy in her voice. "The last time was the wedding of dear Frank and Alice, and even that was shadowed by the war. But the sixties, now that was something completely else! Jonathan, my husband, your grandfather Charlie and old Abe Malfoy ruled the wizarding Britain between the three of them and everyone who was anyone attended the parties we threw each on our turn", she continued.

"What!" Harry blurted, "My grandfather was friends with a Malfoy?"

"Well, more allies than friends, really," Augusta replied. "We had common goals, politically. Abraxas was no where near as extremist as Lucius is, in fact he was rather liberal. The war against Grindewald and the Germans really opened many eyes about the threat muggle wars posed to us, and we were working for better integration between our worlds. Kind of like hiding in plain sight. It was Charlus who established the regular contact between the muggle Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic. The Potters have always had good contacts in the muggle world."

There was a silence as Harry thought about this new information about his family. He wondered why no one had bothered to tell him about any of it before. All he knew was that his father was a prankster and looked like him, and that his mother had green eyes. He knew nothing of his family's history.

"Of course, that is the same sentiment Voldemort seems to have, that muggles are a threat," Augusta broke the silence quietly. "His solution is just completely different..."

They arrived to the dining room, where the house elf had already made the table. Aroma of delicious food was hanging in the air.

"It all ended when Abe died in early seventies. Lucius inherited everything, and our alliance fell apart. His death was deemed to be of natural causes, but now after seeing what it meant politically and what came of Lucius one wonders if Voldemort was really behind it. Abe's death and the fall of our alliance was really one of the main reasons the last war went as badly as it did. The government was polarized, and no compromises could be made. Dumbledore was leading his 'light side' coalition, but his idealism and wish to control and regulate everything was simply too much for the more traditionalist families.

"But let's not talk about war and history. New Year should be celebration of future. Neville! Come now, Mr. Potter is here!"

- O -

The dinner was excellent. It was more delicate and lighter than the homely fares Mrs. Weasley cooked at the Grimmauld Place, but equally as tasty. They had some wine with the food ("Nonsense!" Augusta said when Harry had tried to decline. "A young gentleman like you should learn to appreciate a good wine!"), and although Harry thought the drink bitter the experience was none the less pleasant.

The discussion had covered many topics from school to politics, and Harry was ashamed to admit that he really knew next to nothing about the wizarding world, apart from the little he had seen in Diagon Alley and small fractions about goblin rebellions he had been able to commit to memory during history lessons. He also realized that he really hadn't been much of a friend towards Neville during the years, and swore to himself to try and correct that situation when school started again.

Eventually the discussion reached the ongoing school year, and what was happening in Hogwarts.

"I heard from Neville that you have formed some kind of secret study group to learn defence in absence of a competent teacher, am I correct?" asked Augusta.

"Umm..." replied Harry glancing towards Neville, not knowing what Augusta's position was about the ministry regulations, and not really wanting to take too much credit of the DA.

Augusta read Harry's reaction immediately. "Don't worry about the ministry decrees, I wholeheartedly support your efforts," she said. "To be honest, I was proud when Neville told me about it. You see, Neville has been terribly shy, and putting more effort on studies can never hurt anyone."

"Ah. Yes, of course. We do have this study group, but it's really not so much. And it was Hermione's idea in the first place."

"Don't try to play yourself down, Harry!" Neville interrupted. "I've learned so much from you. You're really better than any previous defence teacher, well, perhaps excluding Professor Lupin. And Hermione's great, but she could never teach us like you do. All she could come up with would be reading and then more reading."

Harry looked down. He really wasn't good at taking praise. The years with Dursleys had left Harry with an inferiority complex, and then receiving massive praise from the wizarding world about things he hadn't done didn't really help either. Quidditch was the only thing Harry thought he was genuinely good at, although all those suggestions about Harry taking up professional career after school were in his mind totally out of question. He wasn't that good.

"None the less", said Augusta, "I'm happy that you're doing it. Neville has found so much more confidence during this year that I can't but think that your club has something to do with it. And as a Longbottom has always stood by a Potter, it's good to see Neville keeping up with the tradition too."

"Huh?", asked Harry, showing once again his exceptional skill as conversationalist. "I heard you mentioning something about it earlier, but I've never heard anything about it."

"It's not really that well known outside our families," Augusta explained. "But the tradition goes back to the late 18th century, when Hadrian Potter was trapped inside the Gringotts bank with Francis Longbottom during the infamous Nine Hour Rebellion. No one really knows what happened inside, but they were the first ones to come out after the bank opened it's doors again. Hadrian was awarded Order of Merlin soon after, and we Longbottoms have ever since been allied with Potters."

"Oh. How come no one has ever bothered to tell me about these things? I know next to nothing about my family, only that they were pure-blood. And it's not like that really mattered to me."

Augusta looked at Harry with a look mixed with astonishment and embarrassment.

"Well, that's wrong, too," she said. "The Potters were never a what you would call a pure-blood family. Sure, your father James and his father Charlus were pure, but they were more of an exception than a rule with the Potters."

Augusta took a little pause, considering what to say before continuing.

"The Potters are a bit of a curious case in the wizarding society. They are an ancient family with roots all the way back to the Roman era, and some say they even have some claim to the Gryffindor name. But they have always been very liberal about marrying muggle-born, half-blood and even muggle women into the family.

"And about learning the history of one's family, most old families have portraits that teach the children about their family history. I know that Charlus had many in the Potter Estate, but I don't know what has happened to them. James never moved in after Charlus died in 1979, as Lily preferred living in Godric's Hollow where she could simply walk out of the front door and mix in with people, both wizards and muggles. And when I once visited the Potter Cottage there after the Ministry had declared it a historic monument, there wasn't anything left there."

Harry was shocked. Not only the only thing he knew about his family history was false, but there were possibly at least two homes that he owned. One had been abandoned almost seventeen years ago, and the other had been declared a historic monument by the ministry. And someone had taken all the furniture and other stuff from his parents' home. His list of things to do was growing rapidly, and he didn't believe he could make it during the holidays. And Dumbledore would probably insist him not to do it, for his safety.

Harry wasn't ready for any more shocks, so he guided the discussion towards safer topics. He learned that Augusta didn't really follow the Quidditch league, but had supported Falmouth Falcons alongside her husband in the sixties, and that Neville was rather fanatic about Puddlemere United, even though he didn't really want to get involved in arguments held in the Gryffindor dorms. He learned that Neville had found his green thumb at home, and that the Longbottoms had large greenhouses right next to the manor, with charms keeping the temperature and lighting conditions ideal for plants from different regions of the world. He also learned that the sweet sherry served with dessert wasn't his cup of tea any more than the wine had been, but that it too was apparently an essential part of being a real English gentleman.

Finally the year had ended and the new one begun, and it was time for Harry to get back to Grimmauld Place. Neville and Augusta accompanied Harry to the fireplace, where they said goodbyes.

"It was nice to have you here, you should come back again sometime," Augusta said, shaking Harry's hand.

"It was my pleasure, Augusta. It's nice to see more places, my experiences are so limited, that every change to break from the routine is welcome.

"And see you in the train, Neville!"

"You too, Harry."

-o0oOo0o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

-o0oOo0o-

The last few days before the start of the spring term flew by quickly. Molly Weasley was resentful that Sirius had allowed Harry to leave the Headquarters on New Year, but had resigned after a lengthy shouting match where Sirius re-affirmed his authority over Harry as his godfather. The morning of departure was again characterized by the typical Weasley chaos, and the crew arrived to Kings Cross station with little time to spare using cars acquired by Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

On the platform Harry and Ron were greeted by almost hysterical Hermione.

"Oh, Harry, Ron, I was so worried when you were just gone one morning! And no one seemed to know what had happened, just that Harry had woken up during night and had been insisting on seeing the Headmaster immediately. You really should have told me what was going on, I found out only after breakfast that you had been sent to the headquarters and that Ron's father was injured."

"It's nice to see you too, Hermione", Harry and Ron said simultaneously. An uneasy silence followed, as both boys wondered if it was okay to laugh for the humorous occasion after spending the holidays not talking to each other. Hermione noticed the changed dynamics between Harry and Ron too, and decided to find out what it was all about. They were her only two good friends, and she really wouldn't want to choose between them.

"Let's go get a compartment, the train is leaving momentarily. And Ron, you really should take your prefect duties more seriously, I was forced to do my patrols alone on the last train ride."

- O -

The train was already almost full, but the trio found room at a compartment currently occupied by Neville and Luna. They stowed what little luggage they had on the overhead racks, and soon after the train left the station Hermione and Ron left for the Prefects car to see their patrol schedule. As was her style, Luna opened conversation without greetings as if continuing from previous time from behind the issue of Quibbler she was reading.

"I see that Ronald's infestation of wrackspurts has gotten worse since I last saw him," she said.

"Huh?" asked Neville.

"The wrackspurts, Neville. They have always caused him to act insecurely in Harry's company, but I've never seen it that bad before," Luna explained.

"Oh, that. His father was attacked before Christmas, and he has acted as if I was reason for it," Harry said, a little amused by Luna's eccentricity.

"Now that's just stupid. You wouldn't attack Arthur, I know that."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. But I've had enough trouble this year already, I don't need to fight with Ron too. So I left him alone, and he did the same to me."

"Well, he has always been a little rude to me, personally I think he just needs to grow up," Luna said, and returned to her magazine.

Harry looked out to the city that was rolling past the window as the Hogwarts Express steamed north towards Scotland. He had to agree with Luna. Ron was acting childishly, and it really wasn't his job to grow him up. Ron would have to do it himself.

Harry felt a little empty at the thought. Ron had been his first real friend ever, and he didn't have enough of them to throw away.

They sat in silence for a while, until Neville broke it with a new question.

"You never told me how exactly Mr. Weasley was attacked, Harry."

"No, I didn't", Harry answered, thinking how much he could explain about the Order. "He was guarding something for Dumbledore at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry when Voldemort's snake attacked him. Dumbledore has this organization dedicated to fighting Voldemort and Death Eaters, and they believe Voldemort wants something from the department."

"Oh! The Department of Mysteries! I've read all about it," Luna exclaimed, lowering her paper. "Daddy believes they have all kinds of interesting animals locked up in there, and are suppressing the truth about them."

"Well, I don't know," replied Harry. "I couldn't find much information about them, but then I didn't have very much material to go trough in the first place. But somehow I don't think Voldemort would be interested in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, they seem to be rather peaceful creatures from what I've learned from your descriptions."

"Oh, yes, but what would be more evil than forcing a completely peaceful race of creatures to war? Dark Lords are Evil, after all."

"Sure, when you put it that way...", said Harry. Dark Lords really seemed to have some kind of ongoing competition of _Who is the most Evil man in history_, which didn't really make any sense at all when you thought about it.

Again a small silence fell over the friends, as Harry was returning to his previous thoughts about how Voldemort's plans seemed to be focused on killing him, and how the something the Order was guarding in the department had some kind of important role in that plan. _But Luna seemed to genuinely know something about the department_, he thought. _It couldn't hurt to ask._

"Err, Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?" Luna answered in her usual airy voice, putting aside her magazine once again, and looked straight at Harry with her huge grey eyes.

"Umm... You said you had read all about the department of mysteries. I would really like to know what it is that Voldemort is looking for there, so I wondered if you could tell me about it."

"But of course, Harry. The Department of Mysteries conducts studies on all aspects of Magic. The literature I have read told that they are researching at least time and possibilities of time travel. There is rumoured to be a chamber dedicated to Love, and then there is the Death Chamber with Archway of Death that was used for public executions until about hundred years ago. In addition to that the Department stores all prophecies that are made in a hall of prophecies. Now they are quite the interesting objects, the prophecies, there are exceedingly strong charms in them, that prevent anyone but the people mentioned in the prophecies from even touching them. And then the Unspeakables research thoughts, and they have huge container full of brains to do that with."

Luna paused to think for a while, looking up and holding a finger on her chin.

"I think that is all I know. But of course daddy believes that all that is public knowledge about the Department of Mysteries is really a part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, and designed to hide whatever they are really doing," she completed her explanation, with completely even tone.

Harry was deep in thought. Nothing that Luna had told him sounded even remotely like something Voldemort could use in his quest for world dominance. The Archway of Death seemed most like Voldemort's cup of tea, but it didn't sound like something that could easily be stolen from the department. Playing with time was something Harry had some experience from his third year, but what little he remembered from Hermione's warnings made it sound rather suicidal to try and change anything from the past. And even then there probably wasn't a time turner powerful enough to send Voldemort back the fifteen years required to prevent Harry from becoming the Boy-Who-Lived. Love was something Voldemort wouldn't know what to do with, and Harry regarded prophecies with extreme prejudice. Trelawney couldn't predict her way out of a paper bag, much less something that could be of use to Voldemort. And Harry couldn't really fathom any practical use for brains floating in some kind of liquid like in some science fiction novel either.

Rest of the train trip went by quietly. Ron and Hermione came back from their patrol, and the group sit silently, Luna reading her magazine, Hermione wondering about her two friends before deciding to take care of that later at the school and reading her course books. Neville was eyeing the others nervously while Harry was looking out of the window and thinking about the coming war and his role in it. Not even Malfoy's regular visit managed to get a rise out of Harry. Ron had left soon after that to challenge Seamus for a game of chess.

The dinner had continued the mood set during the train ride, with Harry eating silently alone and Ron talking with Dean and Seamus. Hermione was sitting in between, observing her two best friends. Eventually the dinner ended, and the group headed towards the Gryffindor tower, Harry and Hermione walking a little bit behind the other boys. As they were passing an unused classroom, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him inside.

"OK, now spill out," she ordered, standing with her hands on her hips, staring at Harry.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, a bit too testily as the emotions he had bottled over the holidays started to spill over.

"I mean what's happened between you and Ron? You haven't said a word to each other the whole day. I need to know what is going on."

Harry was getting angry. "It's none of your bloody business!" he shouted, before turning and heading to the door.

"Harry, wait," said Hermione, now in softer tone. "You two are my only good friends. And I can't keep on going with you two acting like that."

Harry stopped. He had never been good with girls using that kind of pleading tone. "I just... Look, Ron is acting like a child, and I just don't have the patience to deal with it right now, okay? I have too much going on already without having to help Ron to grow up."

Hermione looked down. Things were as she had feared, like fourth year all again. But she had to admit to herself that Harry was probably right. Ron had always been the least mature of the three: she and Harry had been forced to grow up sooner because of their backgrounds: Harry because his relatives hated magic, she because of her intelligence that had scared other children of her age away from her. Harry had really been her first real friend ever.

And Harry really had quite a lot on his plate already: Voldemort had returned, the Ministry didn't want to admit that and had forced Umbridge to Hogwarts to suppress all support Harry was likely to have inside the castle. Not that she was very successful: the ministry really was so incompetent they couldn't even cover their incompetence properly, and the very open campaign against Harry was so obvious cover up that everybody in the castle could feel something fishy was going on. But that didn't really help Harry personally, he could still feel the pressure from Umbridge in form of the Quidditch ban and the outright torture he had to survive in continuous detentions. And the problem of Voldemort was still hanging over him as long as the ministry didn't as much as lift their finger to try and solve it.

"I understand," Hermione finally said. "But you know that I will always be there to help you with whatever is troubling you, don't you, Harry?"

- O -

The next morning during the breakfast the division between the the three Gryffindors was clear for everyone looking. Ron had moved on to sit with Seamus and Dean, while Harry and Hermione were joined by Neville. Ron was discussing Quidditch with the other boys, while Harry, Hermione and Neville were having their breakfast in much quieter atmosphere: Harry was still feeling morose about everything, Hermione was worrying her lower lip and Neville was feeling confused about whether he should feel happy that he seemed to have taken Ron's place as Harry's friend, or sorry about Harry's obvious foul mood.

Neville gathered his courage, and was the first to try and start some kind of conversation.

"Er... Harry?", he said, trying to get Harry's attention. Harry lifted his eyes from the table and looked at Neville.

"I was thinking...", Neville said, "I mean, do you have plans ready for the next DA meeting?"

"Oh", Harry answered. "No, not really." It was evident to both others that Harry hadn't thought about it at all. "But I did receive some good books at Christmas. Thanks, by the way, for the present, Hermione"

"Oh, that was nothing, really. I'm just happy that you liked it. It did seem useful when I looked over it", she answered, blushing lightly.

"More like memorized. You had placed markers for most interesting chapters for me and everything", Harry teased. Hermione glared at him good naturally, happy that her friend had loosened up even a little after his break with Ron.

- O -

Classes went by quickly, with Neville and Hermione teaming with Harry in Charms and Herbology. Divination was as bad as ever, and Harry really wondered why on earth he had chosen it in the first place. Most likely it had something to do with Ron wanting to get by as easily as possible, and Harry following his lead. Working with Neville had been fun, and Harry really felt like he should have been better friends with him from the start, but then Neville had always been a little shy and had received new confidence only during this year. He really wasn't nearly as bad as his practical performance might have indicated, but was at least as good at the theory as Harry was. Not that it was that much to begin with. But his work ethic was as high as any Hufflepuff's.

That night was Harry's first occlumency lesson with Snape. He had had to use the 'Remedial Potions' excuse when leaving the Gryffindor common room, and that had earned him many pitying looks from his peers. Luckily the excuse hadn't yet had time to reach the ears of the Slytherins, as Harry knew Malfoy's teasing would be absolutely ruthless when he would finally find out. And find out he would, as Harry didn't hold any illusions that the lessons would stay as a secret inside Gryffindor house. There was a reason why the Hogwarts rumour mill was called legendary, after all.

As he walked down towards the dungeons and Snape's office Harry tried to remember what he had learned from the book Sirius had given him. He hadn't had much time to read the book, but the little he had managed didn't really make his mood any better. Occlumency seemed to be a terribly complex subject to learn. In fact it seemed to really be more of an art than exact science, and one needed to be able to completely relax to do so. And relaxation was something that Harry really didn't know right now. There was simply too much going on, and the fact that he couldn't even fly himself to exhaustion as his Firebolt was chained to Umbridge's office wall just made things worse.

Another thing that Harry had learned from the book and that made him increasingly nervous was the fact that the learning process involved the teacher attacking the student's defences to teach how to detect legilimency attacks in order to counter them. This meant that complete trust between the student and the teacher was absolutely necessary, as there was a possibility that the teacher would accidentally learn things that the student wanted to keep secret. And Harry didn't trust Snape at all, even if Dumbledore repeatedly stated that he had complete confidence of Snape's loyalties.

Finally Harry reached Snape's office, and as he raised his hand to knock on the door, he felt the last traces of the relaxation exercises he had done in the dorm evaporate leaving only nervous apprehension on it's wake.

"Enter," came the voice of the hated potions professor immediately after Harry had knocked on the door. Harry opened the door, and saw the professor sitting behind his table, reading what seemed to be essays, his quill dipping on inkwell that was filled with angry red ink.

"You're late," he said, making one last furious stroke with the quill and raising his gaze to Harry. "If I am to waste my time to teach you Occlumency, which I don't expect you to be able to learn, I will expect punctuality from you."

Harry just stood still, trying to squash the anger that was trying to rise against Snape's casual dismissal before even the first lesson and the false accusation of his tardiness. He was sure he wasn't late, as he had checked the time multiple times on his way down. This was just Snape's way to try to get a rise out of him, he was better than that, Harry repeated in his head.

Snape looked at Harry's internal battle and raised an eyebrow. "Good", he said. "Controlling one's emotions is the first step in learning occlumency. But I will expect better effort from you in the future. Anyone could read that you're angry from your face, even if you managed to keep yourself from retorting like the arrogant prat you are. Just like your father." The last part Snape said more to himself.

"Now, occlumency is a subtle art of protecting one's thoughts and memories against legilimency, which is the act of trying to access said thought's and memories," Snape started his lecture. "Someone less refined or someone whose mind is polluted by muggle ideas might call legilimency 'mind reading', but that is utterly wrong. Mind is not a book that can be read. The first step of occluding one's mind is emptying it from all thoughts. Do that now."

Harry concentrated on the exercises he had read in the book Sirius gave him, but didn't have much time before Snape's first attack came.

"Legilimens!" he shouted, catching Harry unaware. A unstructured reel of thoughts and memories was running right in front of Harry's eyes. Cedric getting hit by the killing curse in the graveyard. Sound of his mother pleading Voldemort to save his life and kill her instead. The vision of Mr. Weasley getting attacked by the snake. Dementors surrounding Harry, Hermione, Ron and Sirius at the end of his third year. Cho inching closer to him in the Room of Requirement, tears in her eyes. At that point Harry got grasp of his mind, and started to fight back. This isn't what it was supposed to be according to the book. They should have started small and build the defences from ground up!

Suddenly Harry found himself on the floor, clutching his head with both hands and Snape leaning back on his chair, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"That wasn't completely useless, I guess, for a first try", Snape said. "But it still took a lot too much time to force me out of your mind. We will try again."

"Sir!" Harry said, catching his breath and climbing up on his feet. "This isn't what the book suggested learning occlumency should be like! We should be starting with less powerful attacks and working up from there!"

"You are even more arrogant than I thought you were. So the mutt gave you a book on Dark Arts and now you think you are better qualified to teach than your professor? Prepare yourself! Legilimens!"

This time the memory reel was different, but equally as unpleasant. There were memories of Harry's earlier days, how Dudley and his gang chased after Harry, Harry's cupboard, getting punished for getting better grades at school than Dudley, being called freak by his aunt and uncle. Anger rose in Harry's mind. These were private memories! Snape had no business knowing about how his relatives treated him. He would not show his weakness to Snape! Harry had now idea how he had managed to get hold of his wand or fire the curse, but the memory reel ended with loud boom as the reductor hit Snape's desk shattering it to pieces.

Snape looked at Harry, and then glanced at his desk. "Certainly an unorthodox method, but efficient. Keep practising, we'll meet same time next week. No go away!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He was tired, his head hurt, and he really didn't want to spend any more time being Snape's punch bag. He left the office without saying another word, and wandered towards the Gryffindor tower. Harry ignored the greetings of his classmates and questions from Hermione, and collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to change his clothes. The charmed curtains of his four poster bed fell closed as sleep took better of Harry.

- O -

That night Harry returned to the Department of Mysteries in his dreams. There was the same hallway where Mr. Weasley had been attacked, and the door in the end of the hallway. Harry walked closer to the door. Now that he knew more about what place this was, Harry felt even stronger urge to reach out and try to open the door than before, when the curiosity had been just a distant feeling. Harry reached with his hand, and grasped the handle. The door was open! Harry slowly opened the door, only to see darkness beyond. He tried to reach for his wand, when the dream collapsed and he found himself back in his dormitory in the Gryffindor tower.

Harry checked the time. It was six already, and Harry decided it would be useless to try and catch sleep any more, so he quietly climbed up from the bed, noticed that he was sleeping in his robes from yesterday and went to bathroom. A long, hot shower and clean robes later Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room reading the book on occlumency, waiting for other people to get up and breakfast to begin.

Harry couldn't really concentrate on the book, and was mainly just skimming over different concepts that could be used when constructing occlumency shields. Apparently the skill was even more personal and undefined than Harry had previously thought, and no two defences were similar. The book suggested that when learning occlumency, one should try different methods, and then went on describing all kinds of mental defences, encryptions, safe-boxes, guardians, traps and other methods. Finally Harry's eyes found something that caused him to take another look. The chapter was about how powerful legilimency attacks could actually destroy what little defences one had managed to build, and especially for beginners that could severely hinder the learning progress, as they hadn't yet found the optimal personal combination of defences and so couldn't just reconstruct was had been destroyed.

Harry was getting increasingly annoyed at Snape. The bastard had actually made it harder for Harry to learn occlumency, instead of teaching it to him. Harry made a mental note to contact Sirius about this, and felt a bit guilty about not contacting him earlier. Sirius had after all given Harry a communication mirror Sirius and Harry's dad had used when in Hogwarts, so that Harry could contact him easily and safely.

- O -

After breakfast came the one lesson Harry dreaded most: Defence Against the Dark Arts, with "professor" Dolores Umbridge. Umbridge had been appointed by the ministry, and apparently her only function was to try to undermine Dumbledore's position in the school while making Harry's life as miserable as possible. And she had been surprisingly competent for a ministry employee, since she had truly succeeded at least in the latter. As a professor, she was totally useless, ranking up near the top of the uselessness scale with Lockhart.

Because the "lessons" consisted mainly of reading the totally useless defence book in complete silence, Harry had chosen to read other books that had been simply charmed to look like the ministry approved textbook. The habit had first been introduced by seventh year Ravenclaws, and soon adopted by almost all the other students. It worked well, as Umbridge had no interest whatsoever in what happened in her class, as long as everyone was silent and seemed to follow orders. It was a wonder how she herself didn't die of boredom of simply watching the students read in silence, but the sickly sweet smile that didn't leave her face indicated that somehow she was able to draw enjoyment from looking at things being "in ordnung", as the Germans would say. For Harry, it reminded him of his Aunt Petunia's obsession of cleanliness, and her need to destroy everything that was out of order, to the point that the level of perfection in itself was completely abnormal and even freakish.

But, even when Harry was quietly reading his Occlumency book trying to identify defence mechanisms that would work best for him trying to keep his head down as professor McGonagall had advised, it was not to be the peaceful if tense lesson he had hoped as Umbridge found it necessary to seek confrontation with Harry.

"Hem hem," she cleared her throat trying to get attention. "Mr Potter, where were you during Christmas holidays?"

Harry was a bit stunned from the suddenness of this question, and took his time to gather his thoughts before answering. "Eh... I don't see how it is any of your business, professor, but I was staying with my friends and their family."

"As your professor, it is my business, Mr. Potter, especially as you didn't leave with the train as every other student," Umbridge continued. "Care to explain why?"

"I don't really care to explain my reasons in front of all the other students, professor, but I had a permission from the headmaster to leave the way I did."

"Ah, yes, the headmaster. He really does seem to have a soft spot for you, Mr. Potter, doesn't he?"

Harry was starting to get angry. What was the problem with this bitch, anyway? "I'm sure the headmaster has his own reasons. I am not privy of what he thinks, professor."

"I'm sure he does. I will, of course, take these irregularities in discussion with the Headmaster and the Minister. And you, Mr. Potter, you will have detention tonight, for disrespecting tradition."

Harry was staring at his book, not seeing any words, as if trying to burn a hole through it by his look. Umbridge was starting to get closer to the point where Harry would snap and do something drastic. He had long ago thought up many interesting ways of getting rid of the toad for good, his favourites this far included transfiguring her into a goldfish and leaving her flapping on the ground. Or locking her in the Chamber of Secrets with the dead basilisk. It would be amusing to see at which point she would start to get desperate enough to consider the deadly poisonous rotten snake as a potential meal. But killing her would probably just come back and make his life even more miserable as the ministry would no doubt blame him for her unfortunate demise. Even if they would be right for once. And Harry wasn't really of the homicidal type, even if Umbridge was more of an amphibian.

- O -

Harry's foul mood continued for the whole day. Luckily, they didn't have any more lessons than transfiguration, and after lunch Harry retreated to the Room of Requirement to blow off some steam and perhaps practice some real defence. This was something he had started doing last term when Umbridge had really started to get to his nerve. The room supplied him with moving dummies with pink cardigans and sweet smiles, and Harry proceeded to blast them to pieces honing his explosion charm to perfection. After approximately a hundred destroyed dummies the Umbridges started to fire back forcing Harry to dodge and shield, getting him a nice workout to compensate for the loss of Quidditch practice.

It was a tired but much calmer Harry that came back down from the seventh floor and joined Hermione and Neville at dinner.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked as he sat down and begun to load his plate with all kinds of food.

"I was in the Room working some magic. Blowing things up helps me to calm down after Umbitch."

Hermione nodded. There really was no excuse for Umbridges latest detention. Respecting tradition is one thing, emergencies are another. Hermione had thought up something that could possibly help with the matter and that included one snooping reporter she had dirt on, but she wasn't sure if Harry would be willing to go with her plan. She knew how much he hated publicity and being in the spotlight. Hermione decided to let it be for time being and take it up with Harry sometime later, when the situation had calmed down.

After dinner Harry headed towards the office of Dolores Umbridge. The office was as sickly sweet as everything else about the woman, except for her personality. The walls were covered with light pinkish wallpapers with flower pattern, and were full of pictures of kittens and other cute, furry creatures. A strong, sweet, unidentifiable scent filled the air, and behind the desk sat the devil herself, Umbridge. The only thing that broke the atmosphere were three broomsticks chained to the wall like trophies: Harry's Firebolt and the Cleansweeps of Fred and George.

"Ah, come in, come in dear, I was waiting for you," she said, when Harry opened the door. "Please sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Harry simply sat down and shook his head. He knew what he was here to do, and didn't want any more interaction with the vile woman than absolutely necessary.

"Ah, well, some other time, then, perhaps. Now, for the detention, you do understand that tradition is important, don't you?" Umbridge said, and as Harry simply nodded, she continued. "Without tradition, we would be simply savages. Tradition is the reason why we must respect blood, as old families are the truest form of tradition. Now, for today's assignment, I want you to write lines. 'I must not disrespect tradition' would be a good one, don't you think? Yes, that's what I thought too. Now start writing, you will know when the message has sunk in, don't you?"

Harry simply grabbed the deep black quill, like he had done before, and begun writing lines with his own blood. Scroll after scroll of parchment were filled with words and the wound on his hand didn't close up completely any more, when Dolores finally released Harry from his detention with unhappy look on her face as Harry hadn't broken down for once during his ordeal. Truth to be told, Harry had applied a numbing charm on his hand before coming down for his detention, but that was not something the bitch needed to know.

Harry was walking towards the Gryffindor tower tying his bleeding hand with the piece of cloth he had taken with him for this very purpose when someone grabbed him from the elbow and dragged him into an unused classroom.

"Potter, we need to talk", said a feminine voice Harry didn't instantly recognize.

-o0oOo0o-


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

-o0oOo0o-

Daphne Greengrass was the epitome of Slytherin. She was ambitious and she was intelligent; she was beautiful, and wasn't afraid of using her looks for her advantage. She was also from a pureblood family, and proud of it.

That didn't mean she bought the pureblood supremacy ideology some of her housemates were proponents of: attending the same classes with people like Crabbe or Goyle, or to lesser extent Longbottom or the youngest Weasley brother was certainly enough to demolish any notion of inherent superiority of magical blood. No, what Daphne was proud of was the long history of tradition the old families had been able to keep alive for centuries. Some of the rituals performed during major magical days were powerful magic indeed, and the fact that the Ministry of Magic had blanket declared all ritual magic 'dark' wasn't something Daphne would be ready to accept without a fight.

The Greengrass family wasn't especially ancient or wealthy, but a well respected and well to do one nonetheless. In muggle world, the Greengrass family would have been described as an upper middle class one. When Daphne had first come to Hogwarts, she had been looking forward to forging alliances with more powerful families, like the Malfoys, who would have their children starting at the school at the same time. The Sorting hat had noticed Daphne's ambition, and Slytherin had been the only house it had even bothered to consider.

Last four and a half years in Hogwarts tough had left Daphne rather disillusioned about the state of affairs in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy wasn't the sort of a person Daphne would voluntarily spend any time with if it wouldn't benefit her personally. And the rest of the Slytherins seemed to follow suit. But in the wizarding society they held the money and the power, and that was what Daphne wanted her share of.

The situation had taken a sharp turn to worse in the end of her fourth year in school. Daphne had of course heard all the rumours that were going on about the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, and the fact that the Daily Prophet had launched a ministry sponsored discrediting campaign against Potter and Dumbledore pretty much confirmed those rumours in Daphne's eyes. And then, when she had returned to Hogwarts last September, there had been no room for denial left: the Dark Lord had somehow managed to come back from beyond the grave. Even if there had been no attacks or sightings yet, Malfoy's bragging about it wasn't exactly subtle.

The return of the Dark Lord didn't fit Daphne's plans at all. Daphne had read her history, and she knew that there really wasn't any room for individual ambition in a dictatorship, especially if said ambition was geared towards anything else than mindless torture of "enemies" of the leader. Intelligent, independent people had no place in such a world.

The autumn term had been the time to create a new long term strategy. Finally, after long consideration, she had identified two options: the first one was to wait and see, and if the worst came to the worst, Daphne and her family would simply emigrate to continental Europe or perhaps to America. That was the safe option, but it meant potentially leaving the established home of the Greengrass family behind, and would mean building their status in their new home country again from ground up.

Building a new home for magical family wouldn't be easy either. The ancient homes had been built on locations where magic was naturally strong, and generations of wizards living in the same place only strengthened the ambient magic, allowing stronger protections and more elaborate enchantments to be used. And everywhere in the world such locations were in the possession of few families, and it would be terribly expensive if at all possible to buy one.

The second option Daphne had was to work against the Dark Lord, and if her side would emerge victorious from the inevitable war, she would rise to the top of the society as a conquering heroine. This option had risks in every direction: working against Dark Lords held always significant occupational hazards, and when the said Lord had also the government more or less behind him – as Voldemort did via Lucius if you believed Draco's bragging – there were also other less violent ways of defeat looming in the horizon. So it would really be a high risk high return investment.

In the end, the Slytherin in Daphne didn't leave her but one real choice: she would never settle for boring life as a housewife for some middle class businessman, living a comfortable but mediocre life with little to worry about. Sure, many people liked simple comforts, but Daphne wasn't one of them. She wanted to shine brightly, and really make her mark on the world. If that meant there was a significant risk of burning spectacularly, so be it.

For the rest of the term until Yule Daphne had refined her chosen strategy: where was the point she could make the maximum impact in, who would most likely rise highest and thus be the one Daphne should stay with on her ride up. What exactly needed to be done to facilitate said rise.

The answer was again pretty obvious: Harry Potter.

He was the unofficial apprentice of Dumbledore, he was the Boy-Who-Lived and had already significant political clout behind him from his status as a saviour and as the last of the noble house of Potter, so much that even the Prophet's smear campaign couldn't have completely eradicated it. And really, when the truth eventually came out Potter would again be on a multitude of front pages, this time in positive light, and come up as even more revered hero than before.

When Daphne had done her research, she had also found out that the Potter fortune was stuff of legends. No one really knew how large it was, or where it came from, only that whenever a Potter had needed or wanted something to be done, money had never been objection. For example in the founding fund of St Mungo's Potters had been the largest individual contributor, which made the "donation" Lucius Malfoy had made to save his sorry arse from Azkaban after the last war look insignificant. Some said the Potters had their own philosophers stone, others claimed that they had gotten their money as a reward from some foreign monarch for some unspecified favour. What was sure was that they had never flaunted their wealth around, and there weren't many well known Potter holdings in the wizarding world.

When Daphne reflected this to what she knew about Harry she was a little conflicted: sure, Potter had had a top of the line broom since first year, and when it had been broken, a new, even better one had been shipped in to replace it. On the other hand, he didn't seem to have any kind of confidence when it came to wealth. His embarrassment had been obvious in the last year's Yule ball where he had had a nice but pretty standard set of robes and the Weasley had appeared in his side in that hideous thing of his. But, it hadn't been embarrassment of being seen with Weasley and his thing, it had been embarrassment about having better clothes than Weasley. And really, everyone in Hogwarts had better clothes than the Weasleys.

Harry Potter was also arguably one of the most magically powerful students in the school, and with a little coaching he could truly be the leader of the future. And he was already positioned against Voldemort pretty much as tightly as anyone could.

So, with the goal and overall strategy set, the next thing Daphne needed to sort out was how to get herself close to Potter to actually make that strategy work. The obvious problem was the fact that they were in different houses, and in the two most diametrically opposing ones at that. Sure, Potter didn't seem to buy into the house rivalry as much as some other students, but on the other hand he was a bit of a loner in the first place. Gaining his trust would be the most important and the most difficult thing she had to do.

And that is why she was waiting, disillusioned, in the corridor between Umbridge's office and the Gryffindor tower for Harry's detention to end. And that is why she dragged Harry in an unused classroom next to said corridor.

"Potter, we need to talk."

- O -

Harry was confused. Here he was, standing in an empty classroom after curfew with a girl he didn't remember having said a word during his stay in Hogwarts, and she was describing her plan to rise to the top of the society riding Harry's coattails.

"Let me get this straight," he said. "You don't like the fact that most Slytherins seem to be more than willing to follow Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"And you want to join 'my team' to work against him?"

"Yes."

"And you want to use my fame, name and money to get where you want to be?"

This time Daphne had good sense to look at least a little ashamed before answering.

"Yes."

And this was why Harry was confused. Sure, Daphne's plan seemed sound, and she sounded sincere, but this kind of openness wasn't really something he had learned to expect from Slytherins.

"Why are you telling me all this? Aren't Slytherins supposed to be sneaky?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Well, no," Daphne answered. "Slytherins are supposed to be ambitious and cunning, that doesn't mean we have to be backstabbing liars. I have a goal, and I believe you are the best option to get to that goal, and I believe the best way to get you to trust me is to be open about my intentions. If I was trying to be sneaky about it, you would just turn your back and leave."

There was a brief pause as Harry just stared at Daphne.

"Of course, if you do just turn your back and try to leave, I'll have to memory charm you," she added.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. On one hand, more allies was exactly what he needed, on the other hand he didn't really trust a person he didn't know anything about and who seemed to know more about him than he did himself. And the threat of memory charm didn't do much to increase his faith in her either.

"Okay," he said finally. "So... what's in this for me? I mean, you seem to have a pretty good picture of what you want and how you're going to get it, but why should I go with this plan of yours?"

"You get me. You get another opinion on things, you get my knowledge about how the wizarding society works. You get eyes and ears and perhaps even a voice in the Slytherin common room. You get my contacts."

And that was just it. It was actually quite even deal. All Daphne really wanted was to be recognised by Harry somehow when the war would be over (preferably as a major contributor for the victory), and that wasn't really that much. Harry needed more time to consider this.

"You know what," he said, "I'll go to sleep now, and check some of the things you told me about. If I'm interested in including you in 'my team' as you said it, I'll contact you. You must understand that I really can't give you more of an answer right now and I can't trust you with my secrets before I, err, trust you."

"I understand perfectly," she said with a smile. "In fact I would be disappointed if you had just said yes."

- O -

Next morning Harry had no classes, so he was able to lie in. After late breakfast he was back in his bed reading the instructions on the communication mirror.

"Sirius," he said to the mirror, and waited. Soon the face of his godfather appeared on the mirror.

"Hi pup! I was wondering when you would call."

"Yes, sorry about that. I've had a pretty busy few days. First Snape's occlumency lessons and then yesterday I had again detention with the bloody Umbridge."

"So how did Snape treat you?"

"Badly. That was actually the first thing I wanted to talk about you. The book you gave me tells that powerful legilimency attacks will actually make it harder to learn, but that was exactly what Snape was doing."

"That bastard! Wait 'till I'll get my hands on him."

"Well I was thinking more along the lines of contacting Dumbledore about it and make him correct Snape, but whatever you like is best."

"Right. I'll do that. Did you have anything else you needed help with?"

"Actually, yes. I was confronted by Daphne Greengrass last night when I was coming from my detention."

"Oh, you dog! Two days back in school and you got yourself a new girlfriend!" Sirius said with a huge grin. "Way to go Harry!"

"No, it's nothing like that. She was actually looking to join the war on our side. But here's the deal: I don't know her at all, and she is a Slytherin. I don't know if I can trust her"

"Hmm, Slytherin you say? Well, you know how I feel about them, but then we do have Slytherins in the order, too. I don't remember any Greengrasses, but I haven't been on the circles too much lately. I could try to do some kind of background search for you if you wanted, although I may not be able to do much."

"I would like that. But don't do anything stupid."

"Hey, you know me, I would never do anything like that!" Sirius said, with a mock scowl.

"Right. And then she said that I'm supposedly totally loaded, but I don't know about anything else than my vault in Gringotts. Sure there's money, but I don't know if it's a lot or not. You remember anything about that?"

Sirius was scratching his hair, thinking.

"Well, James never talked much about money, but he sure seemed to have enough. And your grandfather was playing politics for fun, that can't be exactly cheap either. And his house was certainly nicer than this one, even if it was maybe a bit smaller."

Sirius was thinking for some more. "Many old families have some kind of family account that pays allowances to all family members, but as you're the only one left I don't know about that. You should probably contact the bank, but that means you would need to go there yourself. The goblins aren't really big on sending confidential information by owl to anyone asking for it."

Harry and Sirius talked for a few more minutes, before saying goodbyes and agreeing to talk again a bit later when Sirius had had time to dig around. Harry went down to the common room to do his Transfiguration homework.

- O -

Days went by, and Harry fell to a new routine. He would hang out with Hermione and Neville, do more school work than ever before and ignore Umbridge. Sirius had called back and told the results of his search: the Greengrasses where respectable businessmen, there weren't any rumours about them, and they had definitely not been active players in the last war, either for or against Voldemort. Sirius had also contacted Dumbledore as they had talked, and judging by the looks Snape was giving him during Potions lesson Dumbledore had gone forward with the message. But the next occlumency lesson had actually been useful, even if the tension between the student and the teacher had reached new heights. The DA had also had their first meeting of this term, and things were going smoothly on that front too.

The routine was broken by gasps from students of all houses one morning when the Daily Prophet was delivered. The huge headline on the front page told the reason:

_AZKABAN BREAKOUT! — Multiple Death Eaters escape from the maximum security prison, Sirius Black suspected culprit._

Below the headline were pictures of the escapees, including all three Lestranges.

As soon as he had seen the headline and the pictures, Neville bolted from the table and ran from the Great Hall. Harry was not far behind, but was stopped by Malfoy's shout from the Slytherin table.

"Aw, is the scar-head concerned for his little squib friend? Are you afraid that Bellatrix will finish the job she started?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!", Harry answered. "Your murdering bitch of an aunt is probably enjoying the hospitality of his sister and your Death Eater father too much to care to actually do anything!"

Harry turned to leave, and didn't react to Umbridge's declaration of detention for "disrespecting honourable citizens" by more than by shaking his head.

Harry found Neville pacing back and forth in the Gryffindor common room. As he noticed Harry entering he immediately grabbed Harry's hand.

"Harry! You must help me!" he said. "You must help me train so I can kill that woman!"

Harry was surprised by the amount of emotion and devotion Neville was showing in his proclamation. The usually reserved and shy boy was now determined young man with a clear goal in his mind.

"Neville, calm down," Harry said. "Of course I'll help you. But you must promise that you won't run away alone to try to hunt her down. Remember, Potter and Longbottom, side by side."

- O -

After calming Neville down, Harry went up to his dorm to get the map and his cloak. This morning Umbridge had went too far, and it was time for her to go down. But he needed Daphne's help for that. He himself couldn't do anything, as he was currently persona non grata, and the Ministry would simply swipe any complaints he made under the rug. Hermione was out of question too. A muggle born Gryffindor wouldn't be much better. But a pureblood Slytherin, now that carried some weight in this society.

He found Daphne easily on the map, and luckily she was currently alone walking towards Slytherin dungeons obviously to get her books. Harry ran down a few flights of stairs and utilised a secret passageway (how they were able to cut the distance in half he would never know, but he suspected that the only answer he would get when asking would be simply 'Magic'), and found himself in a hallway with Daphne's footsteps coming nearer. Harry checked the map to see that they were really alone before taking off his cloak, and turning to greet the Slytherin.

"Daphne," he said. "We must talk. Let's go find someplace where we won't be overheard"

- O -

After they found an empty room Harry perched himself on a corner of a table and turned to face Daphne.

"Well, I've done some asking around, and I think I'll give you a chance", he said. "Let's call this a trust building exercise."

Daphne looked at Harry and narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to find a way to get rid of Umbridge, or at least leash her so tightly that she doesn't get away with absolutely anything she does. This last stunt she pulled during breakfast was the last straw for me. I won't stand for her dictatorship any more. She is getting increasingly annoying, and will probably start creating more of her ridiculous decrees if something isn't done for it. And I think this is a perfect job for you, as a pureblood Slytherin you will have a lot more leverage with the ministry than me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that if I were to say something in the public, I would be instantly swept aside as 'delusional', and same goes to Hermione. They would just come up with more of that 'lovesick puppy' crap they printed last year. But if you, the Slytherin heiress of a pureblood family would say something about Umbridge's abysmal teaching or completely deranged behaviour, it would be much harder for them to not to listen. And come to think about it, after this morning it would probably be possible to get Neville and his Gran on board too. Lady Longbottom doesn't seem like someone who could be walked over easily."

"Yes, I can see how that would work. I should probably ask around if any other purebloods would want to join the complaint, I'd guess at least some Hufflepuffs and most of the Ravenclaws could be interested. But anyway, it will take at least a week before there will be any progress."

Harry thought about it for a while before showing Daphne his hand. The different lines he had been writing had been combined into a web of scarring, but it was still easy to identify as writing.

"You could possibly use this, too. This is what I've been doing during those detentions. I don't know if she uses the same method on anyone else and I'm pretty sure she doesn't give detention to purebloods, but still I'm sure you'll be able to spin something up with this. Just make sure that there are others before you use it, it will all go much smoother if I'm not mentioned in the complaints in any way."

Daphne traced her fingers over the scar tissue on Harry's hand, shocked. That toad truly was a witch with a capital B! She hadn't liked her before, but now Daphne was more than happy to destroy Umbridge totally. She would even have been happy to dig a shallow grave for her in the Forest, but she understood Harry's need to keep this nice and clean. She couldn't help but wonder how Harry had been able to not to kill her when she was doing this to him.

- O -

That afternoon Harry was having his first one on one training session with Neville in the Room of Requirements. They were firing cutting curses on dummies, trying to drill the incantation and wand movements into a reflexive reaction. Pretty soon Harry was forced to observe his friend more closely, as his spells came out wildly erratic. Some of them failed completely, others dug deep gashes in the stone wall behind the dummies.

Harry watched as Neville worked the spell over and over again. His pronunciation was almost perfect, and even if the wand movement was a bit off, it was consistent. A frustrated scowl was forming in his face, as he poured more and more magic on his spells.

"Neville, stop," Harry said. "Try a bit smoother curve on the beginning, like this," Harry demonstrated firing a perfect cutter on the dummy, which promptly lost its arm. "Do that a few times, and try to do it precisely the same way each time."

Neville flexed his arms, took a deep breath and concentrated. He raised his wand, and this time with a perfect movement launched the curse towards the target. The spell sputtered to nothingness halfway to the dummies.

"It's useless," he said, shoulders slumped. "I just can't do it."

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "There's something else wrong. The wand movement was perfect and the pronunciation was almost perfect. It should have worked just fine."

Harry thought for a moment. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong with your wand?"

"There's nothing wrong with my wand!" Neville stated defensively. "This is my father's wand, and I've kept good care of it."

"Oh, so that's it! The wand just isn't the right one for you. Here, let's try with each other's wands, you'll see what I mean", Harry said, handing his Holly and Phoenix feather over to Neville.

Neville hesitated for a moment before accepting the change. They tried again, and this time Harry's spells were wildly off mark. One of them actually blew the dummy up, after which Harry promptly stopped firing. Neville was having a little more difficulties with Harry's wand than with his own, but otherwise the results were similar than before.

"See," Harry said. "I did it the exact same way than with my own wand, but it simply didn't work the way it should. You really should go and get yourself a new wand, it will help you a lot. I remember almost blowing the shop to pieces when I was testing different wands, before I found my own."

Neville looked at his wand as if it had betrayed him.

"Don't worry," Harry said. "You can keep your father's wand as a memory. This just means you are your own man, it doesn't mean that your parents would be any less proud of you."

Neville nodded.

"Let's go," Harry said, grabbing Neville's shoulder. "It's no use doing more of this right now."

- O -

The result from Daphne's operation came on the first weekend of February. It was delivered in form of the Daily Prophet.

_WHAT EXACTLY IS THE MINISTRY DOING WITH OUR CHILDREN'S EDUCATION?_

_We at the Daily Prophet have received great deal of post from worried parents of students in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. While previously the letters have been mostly about the mental stability of the headmaster Albus Dumbledore, in the last weeks there has been a great deal of worry about the newest professor, Dolores Umbridge. For example Leslie Bradshaw, a respectable businessman from London writes as follows:_

_"While I wholeheartedly agree that Dumbledore may be out of touch when it comes to managing his school, my daughter [a third year student in the Hufflepuff house] has never before told about being afraid in the school. The ministry appointed professor of the Defence Against Dark Arts is according to my daughter using outright barbaric methods of punishment, and reports having seen droplets of blood in the hallway in front of her office. And while I agree that the teaching of defence has been erratic at best in the past, the teaching methods of the current professor are according to my daughter 'abysmal'. In fact, she doesn't seem to teach anything, but orders the students to simply read their textbooks in silence"._

_The Prophet contacted Quentin Trimble, the author of the acclaimed handbook _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ to give a professional opinion about the books used in professor Umbridge's class, and his verdict was that, and we quote, "the book is only fit for use as kindling."_

Harry looked at the head table, where Umbridge was reading the article and getting more and more red all the time. He expected her to explode any minute, when an important looking owl delivered a letter to her, and she promptly turned white. She left the room as soon as she had finished reading the letter, walking as quickly as possible while still maintaining her dignity. An excited whispering broke out in the hall right after she had cleared the door, with everyone speculating what would happen next.

- O -

Harry and Daphne met again the next evening. Umbridge had been forced to cut down some of her decrees, and to enforce the rest with a decree of fairness. She had also reportedly tried to actually teach something in her class. Or at least she had offered some answers to questions, and even allowed examples of spells to be mentioned. She had also punished Draco for calling a muggleborn Hufflepuff 'mudblood', even if she had clearly not liked doing so. Still her mission of watching over Dumbledore was the same, even if she wasn't able to do much more than watch and report.

"I think you should consider bringing your little defence club out into the open", said Daphne, after Harry had congratulated her for successful operation.

"Huh?" asked Harry. "How do you know about it?"

"Please, everyone knows about it," Daphne explained. "Even though I must compliment about the secrecy. I still don't know where or when you meet, or who exactly are in it. But it's impossible to actually keep something that big secret in Hogwarts."

"Oh," Harry said dejectedly. "Maybe it's so. But what do you mean by 'bringing it out into the open'? Why would I want to do that?"

"First of all, now that Umbridge has been properly restrained she couldn't do much more than accept that it has equal right to exist as, say, the Slytherin quidditch team. Also it would mean that you wouldn't be doing anything against the rules any more, which is good when you want to show yourself in good light. And it would also be rubbing it on the ministry's nose, doing the exact thing they don't want you to do with their permission," she said.

"And, when we finally manage to make the ministry see that Voldemort truly is out there, it will look very good if you have been all this time trying to help the students to be able to defend themselves. And really, the people who are in your group will surely trounce those not in it when the exams come, and it will be even greater victory for you to be able to say that you taught them better than Umbridge with her 'ministry approved' curriculum."

Harry scratched his chin. "Yes, that idea sure does have some merit. I'll have to talk about it with Hermione and the others, of course."

- O -

In the next DA meeting Harry brought the idea on the table. It ignited a very heated discussion, with opinions for and against. Some liked the concept of secret club as it added an element of danger to otherwise boring school life, others wanted to keep the group small as it was, and not expand as would inevitably happen if it was opened for all. Still others didn't want to openly participate in a "boring study group", as it would take away from their image as rogues. Eventually everyone nonetheless agreed that it was a generally good idea to stop hiding, especially as the main reason for hiding, Umbridge's Educational Decree number twenty-four, wasn't enforced with as much malice as before. It was also agreed that they would ask Professor Flitwick to be a staff sponsor for their group, as the tiny professor was a former duelling champion.

With the help of Hermione and some upper year Ravenclaws that knew the Hogwarts rulebook inside out and backwards, including all of the new decrees, a new charter for a group called "Defence Association" was quickly formed, with Harry Potter as the named leader. Dumbledore's Army would continue it's existence in the background and the members would keep their communication coins, as there might still be a need for a more compact group where everyone would trust each other.

The expression on Umbridge's face was priceless when Harry, Hermione, Luna Lovegood and Hannah Abbot (to give the group even more validity as an inter-house organization) came to her office with Professor Flitwick, and more or less forced her to give her approval to the very same group she had fruitlessly tried to fight against all these months.

- O -

Harry's next occlumency session with Snape was scheduled on Tuesday evening the next week. They had missed many sessions, as Voldemort was getting his plans to higher gear after the successful Azkaban breakout and Snape had been repeatedly called to his side. But the few they had had had actually been rather productive. After Snape had been able to get over his prejudice of Harry he had been very competent although extremely demanding teacher, and Harry had actually learned to defend his mind against legilimency: he had discovered the methods that worked for him, and now that he knew what to do he spent the nights meditating and reinforcing his defences before falling asleep.

Just before Harry and Snape were about to start their lesson, they were interrupted by a first or second year Slytherin boy.

"Professor!" the small kid said. "There's a fight going on in the corridors! Some of us were pranked, and then it grew into a fight!"

Snape looked at the student, and then at Harry.

"Very well," he said, "Potter, you wait here, and review the recipe for the sleeping draught while I'll go and sort this out."

The professor followed the kid out closing the door behind, leaving Harry alone.

As Harry obviously didn't have any of his books with him as his remedial potions was just an excuse, he simply looked around. The professor's fascination with Potions and Dark Arts was easy to see from the contents of his book stack and private ingredients cabinet. How they had gotten away with breaking into said cabinet during their second year still amazed Harry.

Soon enough Harry's interest was caught by silvery glow emanating from a bowl sitting on a table at the far corner of the room. It was Snape's pensieve. A spark of curiosity awakened inside Harry: what would Snape hide in a pensieve he didn't want Harry to accidentally find out during their sessions? What did he hide that he didn't want Voldemort to find out?

Harry reached over the bowl, and a quick glance to the door later he touched the surface and was dragged into the memory.

- O -

Harry was standing in a corridor next to the entrance to the Headmaster's office, where a younger looking Snape was pleading the gargoyle to let him pass. Harry was bewildered. He had never seen Snape like this: the potions professor always managed to keep his face as an expressionless mask, and he would never lower himself to plead, far less in front of a lifeless guardian. Snape's pleads were interrupted as Dumbledore arrived to the scene from behind Harry.

"What seems to be the problem, Severus?", he asked in his grandfatherly voice, causing Snape to turn around in surprise. "I heard you got your mastery on potions; youngest potions master in years, if I remember correctly. Congratulations."

"Headmaster!" Snape exclaimed. "You must warn them! You must protect her, you must protect Lily!"

Dumbledore's face turned from the jovial teacher to a much more serious one, as Harry's bewilderment was doubled. What did Snape have to do with his mother?

"I think this conversation is best had in a more private environment," Dumbledore said seriously, and led Snape and Harry past the gargoyle. Once up in the Headmaster's office, Snape started his frantic pleading again.

"The prophecy, sir! The Dark Lord knows of the prophecy!" He said, before ripping off the left sleeve from his robes and exposing the Dark Mark on his arm. "I was the one in Hog's Head, and I told Him what I heard. And now he wants to kill the Potters and the Longbottoms. You must protect them!"

The Headmaster slumped slightly on his chair, as an even more worrying expression took place on his face, showing some of the man's true age. "The situation is how I feared, then. Don't worry, I will take necessary precautions, they will be safe. Now, I need to know how much of the prophecy you heard, it is of utmost importance to know how much the enemy knows."

Snape had visibly relaxed at the declaration that Dumbledore would keep the Potters safe, and had regained his composure.

"I didn't hear more than the first two verses of the prophecy before I was forced to leave byt the barkeep. About the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, that would be born at the end of July to those who have thrice defied Him."

Dumbledore seemed to think over this information for a while.

"Yes, that is unfortunate," he said slowly. "Now, I need to know why you are here? Why the sudden change of heart? If I remember correctly, you didn't seem to be too friendly with Potter at school."

"No I wasn't. But this isn't about Potter, this is about Lily. She was my first and only friend, the only one I ever loved. I promised to myself I would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe!"

"Ah, love, of course, powerful thing indeed," the Headmaster said with a smile, stroking his beard. "Now, if you truly wish to do anything to protect her, I have been looking for someone inside Voldemort's ranks that would be willing to pass me information about his plans. Would you be willing to do that for me?"

"Anything, anything for Lily. I have put her in danger, I could never forgive myself if I didn't do everything I could to protect her."

- O -

Harry emerged from the memory, shaking. Now, for a normal teenager the knowledge that the most hated teacher in the school loved your dead mother was already too much information. Add to that a prophecy that says you would be the one 'with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord' and the fact that said teacher was at least indirectly responsible for the death of your parents, anyone would fall apart.

So, Harry did the only thing that made sense in his situation. He ran.

-o0oOo0o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

-o0oOo0o-

Harry was sitting alone in the balcony of the astronomy tower, trying to get his thoughts in order. There was too much going on in his mind that he couldn't think straight. Too many conflicting thoughts, too many interconnecting issues.

The first thing was the Prophecy. How he or Neville were destined to vanquish the Dark Lord. The next thing was his parents. How they had been killed because of said prophecy. Then there was Snape, who apparently had both told Voldemort about the prophecy and warned Dumbledore about Voldemort's plans. And then, finally, there was Dumbledore. Dumbledore had known the prophecy all the time, and still he had left him rotting with the Dursleys. Dumbledore had known about Snape's betrayal, but still he let the man treat him like dirt. Dumbledore had known about the prophecy, but hadn't offered him any help to actually fulfil it, even after Voldemort had returned. Dumbledore had refused to tell him about it, even when he had asked if he knew why Voldemort was after him. "You are too young to carry such a burden," had been the only thing he had said.

And that, Harry thought, was true. He was too bloody young to to have to carry the burden of saving the world from a madman, especially when said world clearly didn't want him to do so, but instead tried to throw him to jail and snap his wand. A world that sabotaged his education and tortured and discredited him at every turn.

'Fuck this,' Harry thought. 'I will "vanquish" the Dark Lord for you, but you'll bloody well have to bend backwards for me to do so.'

Harry got up from the floor. He needed to find Daphne and contact Sirius. There would be a change of plans. Hell, he needed to tell Neville that Bellatrix wouldn't be on top of his list any more, that there were bigger fish to fry...

- O -

Harry arrived to the Gryffindor common room, where Hermione was sitting by the fire, reading as usual. She noticed Harry coming in.

"Harry!" she greeted him. "Weren't you supposed to have a lesson with professor Snape?"

"Err, yes. But something came up, and Snape needed to go, so we didn't have it. Look, we need to talk. I'll go get Neville, he needs to hear this too. Wait us in the room, yes?"

Hermione looked at Harry with an expression that demanded explanation, but nodded and closed her book. Harry went up to the boy's dormitory.

- O -

A while later the three were sitting in the Room of Requirement, which looked currently like a smaller copy of the Gryffindor common room, with red and gold furniture and a fireplace with a fire burning happily.

"So, what is going on, Harry?" demanded Hermione.

Harry massaged his temples thinking how to go on with this. "This is big, Hermione. I... I understand if you don't want to be around me any more after this, but I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone about this. And I mean anyone."

Hermione looked at Harry her eyes filled with worry. "Why on earth wouldn't I want to be around you? You are my friend. Oh... you didn't kill professor Snape or Umbridge, did you?"

"No! Nothing like that. Although I don't know what I'll do the next time I see Snape..."

"Oh, okay, I'll promise not to say anything."

Harry looked at Neville, who nodded.

"As you know, I was to have an occlumency lesson with Snape today," he started. "When we were about to begin, some little Slytherin comes in to ask Snape to break up some fight or something, and I was left alone in his office. So, I started looking around and noticed his pensieve."

"Harry!" Hermione interrupted. "Those things are private! You aren't supposed to just go looking into other people's pensieves!"

"Yes I know, but that's not the point. And besides, the whole point of the lessons is that Snape pokes around my personal memories, so it's a fair deal, right?"

Hermione huffed.

"Anyway, I was looking at his pensieve and I found myself in this memory. And this is the bad part. It was a memory about Snape telling Dumbledore how Voldemort was going after my and Neville's parents, or more precisely, after me and Neville. Apparently there is some kind of prophecy, that states that either I or Neville will 'vanquish' Voldemort."

There was a silence. Fire was crackling merrily in the hearth.

"So," Harry said. "Now that you know what's going on, you are free to leave, Hermione. I won't hold it against you."

Harry's words woke Hermione from her shock. "Oh Harry!" she cried and lunged in to hug him, before slapping him hard on the shoulder. "Of course I'm not going anywhere. As I said, you're my friend, and friends help each other!"

After that the meeting went a lot smoother. Neville was still shaken by the news, but he seemed to deflect any potential responsibility to Harry, who was after all the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione suggested that the prophecy was probably what Voldemort wanted from the Department of Mysteries, and Harry agreed. They also argued whether or not the prophecy was already fulfilled when Harry was a baby, but without the full wording they were unable to make any decision.

- O -

Harry's meeting with Daphne went a lot faster. After extracting a promise of silence from her, he told what he had learned, and her answer was simple.

"I kind of figured that you would be there anyway when he would be put down. This only gives me a kind of guarantee that you won't try to hide away, doesn't it? And it's not like you have to face him alone fair and square, although you're right that you should probably try to get the full wording of the prophecy before planning any further."

Harry nodded, happy that Daphne too was still inclined to stay with him, and not run away from the war after hearing about the prophecy. He was starting to like the cold and calculating Slytherin, she was so different from all the others in the school, who saw him only as some kind of hero.

"What about Snape and Dumbledore?" she asked. "They have both known about this prophecy all the time, and haven't told you anything. And everyone knows Snape has some kind of personal vendetta against you."

"I don't know. I truly don't know what I'm going to do when I see Snape next time, and I really don't trust Dumbledore's judgement at the moment. I think that Snape really needs to go before I do something drastic, and I would like to know the full wording of the prophecy before I decide what I truly think of Dumbledore. And I'm not going to simply ask Dumbledore about it, I just don't believe that he would really give me the whole truth about it."

"Right. Lets do it like this: I'll think of something to do with Snape; I know him better and my way probably won't lead you to Azkaban. You focus on the prophecy and Dumbledore."

"Okay, that's probably for the best."

- O -

The next thing Harry did was to contact Sirius. The input from the old Marauder would be invaluable, and he would also be able to extract some information about the layout of the Department of Mysteries from the Order Members that occasionally visited the Headquarters.

"Nice to see you again, kiddo," Sirius greeted when Harry activated the mirrors. "I saw the articles about Umbridge, has the school got any better after that?"

"Well, yeah. We actually managed to force her to 'approve' of our defence group, and we'll have our first open meeting next week. But that's not what I called you for. But I need you to promise to not to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you."

"Huh? You can always trust me. You are not planning anything too dangerous, are you?" Sirius asked with a slightly worrying look.

"Nothing you wouldn't do. And nothing as dangerous as what I've done before."

Sirius barked a laugh before giving his oath as a Marauder to not to tell anyone about whatever mischief Harry was planning.

"I need your help to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic," Harry said.

Sirius whistled. "Now that's something even we didn't think of doing while we were at school. But then again, we didn't have trolls, basilisks or dragons either..."

Harry explained the situation with the prophecy, and how he didn't trust Dumbledore enough to just go ask him. After telling Sirius about Snape's involvement in all this the older man exploded.

"I'm going to kill that bastard! First he causes the deaths of James and Lily, and then he has the gall to strut around like he owns the place!"

"Sirius, NO!" Harry interrupted. "They were my parents, I get the first turn on him. I don't want to lose you too for doing something reckless."

Sirius was slightly calmed by Harry's unsaid promise that he would get what would be left of Snape after Harry was through with him, and the discussion returned to the actual mission in hand: getting the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries.

"You are probably going to need inside help if you're going to go there during the day," Sirius said after a while. "I think I could persuade Nymphie to help, she was a huge fan of the Marauders when she was younger, and I think she has a soft spot for you, too," he teased. "And she doesn't care too much about rules and regulations."

- O -

The next Quidditch match was Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff in two weeks time. Harry and Sirius had agreed that the match would be the perfect cover for sneaking out of the school, as everyone would be so focused on it that they wouldn't notice two Gryffindors missing. Hermione had been strongly opposed to the plan, but had relented when Harry had told her that they would also be getting Neville a new wand from Ollivander's. So, when the Gryffindor house was gathering steam for the upcoming match, Harry and Neville sneaked out under Harry's invisibility cloak and towards Hogsmeade using one of the secret passageways.

Tonks was waiting for them in a small side alley.

"Wotcher, Harry! Neville," she said with a smile. "So, you're ready to break a few laws?"

Harry shook his head, amused. He would never understand how Tonks had ended up as an Auror.

"So, the plan is for you to play an Auror," she said, handing Harry a red cloak, a vial of potion and a hair. "While you will be a criminal we have captured." Neville got his own equipment. "That's polyjuice potion," Tonks explained as he noticed Neville's confused look.

"I will apparate you two to London, and then we will enter the Ministry via the Auror entrance. Once we get in an elevator, you get under invisibility cloaks," she explained, showing a cloak she had procured from the Order, "– while I will disillusion myself."

Finally she handed Harry a small knife. "Sirius wanted you to have this," she said. "It's a Black Family heirloom. It should open any lock there is. Sometimes it pays to be from a decidedly dark family, I suppose."

Harry fingered the blade of the knife. It was ordinary looking, but the edge was as sharp as anything he had seen before. If it worked as promised, it would really come handy when trying to break into the Department.

"Alright, drink up your potions and gear up. One hour should be enough to get in there and back out."

Polyjuice tasted as bad as Harry remembered, and the transformation was painful. But nonetheless Harry was soon replaced by a bit taller and broader, light haired wizard. Harry looked at Neville, and he too had changed his appearance. Neville looked every bit the criminal he was supposed to be, and Harry briefly wondered where Tonks had been able to get that hair from. Both Gryffindors quickly changed into their new robes.

"Okay, has either of you apparated before?" Tonks asked. As both boys shook their head, she sighed.

"Right. This will be a bit uncomfortable. I really don't have the power to apparate all of us, so you need to help. So, I need you to concentrate in willing to be in London, release your magic and definitely do not resist the actual apparition. Understood? Good."

Harry concentrated, not really knowing in what. But he truly wished to be in London, so that should be enough. Hopefully. He felt Tonks taking a strong grip of his arm and a very strange squeezing sensation before he opened his eyes, and found himself in a different alley than where he had been a moment ago.

"Did it work?" he asked, feeling nauseous. Why did the magical travel have to be so bloody uncomfortable?

Tonks checked all around herself, before giving a once over for Harry and Neville. "It looks like it. You're not missing anything, right?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"You know, splinching. Losing some part of you, like an arm or leg. It can happen while apparating."

Harry was almost panicking as he checked himself all over. Luckily he didn't seem to miss anything. "Why didn't you tell anything about that before?" he asked, accusingly.

Tonks shrugged. "I thought you knew. And it wouldn't have helped, anyway. You would have been too scared, and there would have been even bigger change for an accident."

Neville was simply looking green at the possibility.

- O -

The actual infiltration went right by the plan. Tonks greeted the few of her co-workers they encountered, while Harry and Neville stayed silent. They didn't meet anyone on the elevator, as the building was mostly empty apart from the Aurors during weekend. There wasn't anyone on the Department of Mysteries either, and Tonks had managed to get the guard duty from the Order, too. The first problem came when they entered the huge hall that stored the prophecies.

"Merlin! There must be like a million of these things!" Tonks exclaimed, when she saw the seemingly endless shelves filled with small orbs. "How are we going to find anything from here?"

Neville was looking closer at the nearest shelf. "Err.. These seem to be categorized by the seer that gave the prophecy"

"Great. And we don't know the name," said Tonks. "Any ideas?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "Who could Dumbledore have been meeting in a bar where Snape was able to overhear the conversation? I mean, Dumbledore is a bit barmy, but I don't really see him seeking advice from fortune tellers."

Neville seemed to think about something. "What about Trelawney? She could have been having a meeting with Dumbledore or something, and Snape might have been there?"

"Well, that's the best idea we have thus far. Is there a catalogue or something somewhere?"

After quite a while of looking around Harry, Neville and Tonks were able to find Trelawney on a shelf between Treebeard and Trillian on aisle ninety-seven.

"Here's something", Neville said. "S.P.T. to H.J.P., Servant and Dark Lord", he read aloud. "Your second name is James, isn't it, Harry?"

Harry was looking at it, remembering the night of his third year when he had been alone with Trelawney. He hadn't even considered that it might have been an actual prophecy, and hadn't thought about it since. "No, that's another one," Harry said, with a silent voice. "It was during our third year, before we were attacked by the Dementors".

Both Neville and Tonks were looking at Harry, but Harry had already noticed something else on a lower self. There was a small sphere, similar to the other one, containing swirling blue mist. But it was the label attached to it that had captured Harry's attention. Or, more precisely, the addition that had been made to the label with red ink.

_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.  
>Dark Lord<br>and (?) Harry Potter_

"It's me," Harry said. "It's me the prophecy is about. Not Neville."

Both Tonks and Neville turned to look where Harry was pointing. Tonks was the first to gather her wits.

"Alright. Harry, you take the thing, I'll go find something we can replace it with. Lets not hang around any longer than necessary."

- O -

Their exit from the ministry went as well as their entry. The building was still quiet, and they didn't see anyone on their way out. Tonks had found a cupboard full of blank spheres and had replaced the original with one, so there shouldn't be any sign that anything was amiss in the department, unless Voldemort himself decided to go in to try and retrieve the thing. The Polyjuice had worn off soon after they had entered the alley behind the Ministry.

"I think it would be best if you took the thing to Gringotts and hid it in your vault. We are not going to listen it here, and I don't know if you would want anyone else to even know about the contents. You should probably listen it at least once all by yourself to see what it says before you tell anyone else," Tonks advised Harry. "I'll wait you two at the Leaky Cauldron, so Harry can go to the bank and Neville can go and buy himself a new wand."

Harry and Neville nodded, and they started walking towards Diagon Alley.

- O -

The bank was as imposing as Harry remembered from his last visit during the summer before his third year, when he had been staying at the Alley.

Harry walked to a open counter where a goblin was measuring galleons using scales.

"Err... Hello?" he said. The goblin looked at him with an annoyed look, but didn't say anything.

"I... I wanted to visit my vault," Harry said, producing his key from his pocket. "And then I wanted to know what else I had here in Gringotts."

The goblin took the key and looked at it closely. Then he looked back at Harry, this time glancing at his forehead looking for the scar. "Ironclaw!" the goblin barked, and another goblin came from the entrance to the caves, and the goblin explained something to the another goblin in gobbledygook. The goblin then turned back to Harry.

"Ironclaw will take you to your vault. I'll prepare a statement of your assets while you're below," he said, and turned back to his coin-counting.

- O -

A silent and speedy cart ride later Harry was in his vault. He placed the prophecy on a shelf that ran all along the walls of the walls of the vault. A quick glance to the door later (Ironclaw was waiting outside, sitting in the cart and looking at the ceiling) Harry turned to the sphere, trying to figure how it worked. Not noticing any markings or anything else on it, Harry shrugged, drew his wand and tapped the sphere with it.

Instantly a image of younger looking Trelawney appeared over the sphere. With an ethereal voice Harry remembered from earlier she intoned:

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

Harry was confused. It didn't make any sense. The mark was clear, that would be his scar, but how did it make him Voldemort's equal? Well, he would have to consult Hermione and Daphne. Harry listened the prophecy a few more times to make sure he remembered everything, filled his money bag with galleons (had the pile grown bigger since last time?), and left the vault.

- O -

When they were back on the surface, Harry was led into an office, where a third goblin waited for him.

"Greetings, Mr. Potter. My name is Axeheart, and I have been the Potter family account manager for the last thirty years. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Harry shook the goblins hand. "So, you'll be able to tell me what I own?" he asked.

"Yes, indeed," the goblin said, taking a ledger from his table. "Here's a summary of everything you have in Gringotts."

Harry took the ledger and browsed through it. Daphne had been right, he was loaded!

"As you can see, the Potter holdings are quite extensive," Axeheart said. "In addition to the personal cash vault you inherited from your parents, you have an investment account, a family heirloom vault, and another storage vault that was opened in your name by the Ministry of Magic in November 1981. I would assume it contains whatever was salvaged from your parents' house before it was turned to a historical monument."

The goblin paused for a minute to give Harry time to study the ledger by himself.

"As you are currently under-age, you can't do withdrawals from either the family vault of the family investment account, but the cash vault and the storage vault are under your name, and you can do whatever you like with them. A sum of 200 galleons per month is added to the cash vault as an allowance from the family account as per the Potter family charter, and it will go up to 500 per month when you reach the age of majority. The current account balance is approximately 52 000 galleons, while the market value of the investments is currently about 15 million galleons."

Harry looked wide eyed at the figure under the bottom line. He had little idea how much it really was worth, but when you considered that the thousand galleon triwizard prize had been enough for many students to enter themselves in a potentially lethal competition, he knew he wouldn't ever have to worry about money.

"That's quite a lot," croaked Harry finally.

"Yes, it is," agreed Axeheart. "The Potters are one of the few wizarding families that have investments in the muggle world, and definitely the wealthiest of those. Most of the purebloods think muggles are beneath them and have their money either as cash or valuables in a vault or own land or property in the wizarding world. The wizarding economy has been more or less stagnant for the last few hundred years, while the muggle global market has multiplied exponentially. And, in fact, the current market value of your investments is still influenced by the recession a few years ago. We expect to have over ten percent yearly growth rates for your investments in the coming years. Our analysts and diviners have identified the information technology sector as an extremely promising one."

"Right," was all Harry was able to say. "My friends are probably already waiting for me, but I would really like to see the storage vault you told me about. Can I go there now?"

"Of course. May I presume that you don't have key to that vault?"

"Ah... yes."

"No matter. Creating a new key will cost you 10 galleons. It will be ready when you come back up."

"Alright."

- O -

Another ride with Ironclaw later Harry was in a vault that was completely filled with furniture and boxes full of clothes, tableware, books and other stuff. Harry's eyes watered when he found a box that contained framed photos of his family. His parents were smiling, sitting in a beach somewhere during sunset, and his mother was definitely pregnant.

"Mother, father," Harry whispered, tracing his finger over the glass.

A sound of someone clearing his throat startled Harry from his tears. He whipped his wand out and turned to see the room. There were no one there.

"So someone finally decided to come get me out of here?" a voice said. "Thirteen years in a dark vault is a long time, you know."

"Who are you?" Harry asked, still keeping his wand at the ready.

"Who am I? My name is Charlus Potter. Now show your face, I don't like talking to the cloth that covers me."

Harry approached the cloth covered thing that was leaning against wall. He removed the cloth, and saw a painting of a stately older man with familiar looking, messy black hair. Otherwise the painting's facial features were rounder than Harry's or James'.

"Ah, you must be young Harry!" the painting said. "Excuse my former rudeness, but the last people I saw weren't very friendly. And over thirteen years alone one has time to think what to say when they finally decide to come back."

The painting looked at Harry closely.

"I remember you were quite the lively lad when I last saw you. But where have you been all these years? And why have I been locked up in this vault with no company?"

"Err... I didn't even know you existed before today."

"What? The last Potter not knowing about his grandfather? I would have thought Sirius or Frank would have taught you better than that."

"I'm sorry, but Sirius was sent to Azkaban immediately after my parents were killed, and Frank, you mean Longbottom, right?" Harry asked, and Charlus nodded. "Frank and Alice were tortured into insanity."

Charlus seemed to think over this information.

"What do you mean by Sirius being in Azkaban? He was a law enforcement officer, for Morgana's sake."

"Well, he was thought to have betrayed my parents, and killing Pettigrew and twelve muggles. He escaped, and now he is hiding in his family house."

"Huh. You really must get me out of here. I'm completely out of touch. How can I help you if I don't know what is going on?"

"I don't really know where I could take you," Harry said apologetically. "I'm currently at school, and my relatives wouldn't really appreciate your presence. And they wouldn't know anything about the magical world, anyway."

"What about the Daily Prophet? They would probably love to have me hanging around in their office, I was quite the influential figure there in the sixties and seventies, you know."

"The Prophet? They hate me. They have been printing all kinds of nonsense about me whole year."

"What? You own a third of the Prophet. At least you should own. It was the basis of our political power with Malfoy and Longbottom. Malfoy owned another third, that was how we were able to dance around those pesky majority rules," Charlus smirked, remembering the times of his glory.

"Excuse me? I own part of the Daily Prophet? And Malfoy owns another? What about Longbottoms? Do they own their share, too?"

"Nah, the Longbottoms were never about money. They were the popular part of our coalition, with Malfoy and I providing the money and heavy lifting. Being a Most Ancient house didn't hurt them, either. The rest of the Prophet was owned by whoever. Sixty percent was more than enough to control it completely, after all."

Harry thought over it all. It actually made sense for Malfoy to own a major part of the Prophet, and it would certainly explain why they were being such arses. And how Lucius had been able to buy favours from Fudge: if no one was controlling the Potter share, the elder Malfoy had almost complete control over the paper alone.

"I could perhaps have Tonks take you to Sirius, he would probably like to have someone to talk to, he isn't too fond of his house, you know."

"Yeah, he was like that already when he was younger. Always visiting our place. Being an Azkaban escapee doesn't probably help either. How was he able to do that, by the way? No one escapes from Azkaban."

"That's something you should talk with Sirius. But I really need to get going. My friends, Longbottom, by the way, are waiting for me, and Dumbledore is bound to notice us missing at some point. We aren't exactly authorized to be in London."

"Hah! Sneaking out of the castle to go to London? That's the way to do it, boy! Your father would have done it too, you know. But all right, you should probably shrink me, but be careful with it, will you?"

Harry shrank the painting, and wrapped it in a piece of cloth he ripped from the cover, and left the vault.

- O -

Harry found Tonks and Neville sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, drinking butterbeer. Neville was gushing about his new wand – cherry and unicorn hair, thirteen inches – and Tonks was simply amused at his enthusiasm. All nervousness about the prophecy seemed to have faded from Neville's mind after seeing confirmation that it wasn't about him. Harry gave Tonks the painting and told her to take it to Sirius, and they flooed out of London and back to Hogsmeade. Sun had already started to set when Harry and Neville finally emerged from the secret passageway in the school and headed to the Gryffindor tower.

- O -

Harry and Neville arrived to the Gryffindor common room in the middle of a celebration. They were immediately attacked by an enthusiastic Ron. "Hey mate, where have you been? Did you see my awesome save around the halfway of the game? I saw the Hufflepuff chasers coming, and immediately recognized their attack pattern. I moved up left as if I was falling to the textbook hawkshead only to drop off my broom holding on only with one hand and kicked the quaffle out! The look on their face was priceless!"

"Yeah, that was really great," Harry said distractedly. He had completely forgotten the game when visiting the Department of Mysteries and Gringotts.

"And Ginny truly is a great seeker, too. No offence, mate, but with a little bit better broom she will give you run for your money."

"Yes, sure."

Harry simply wanted to go up to the dorm and think through the prophecy and what he had learned at the bank. There was a lot to do, and he didn't feel like celebrating just yet. Ron of course noticed the lack of enthusiasm in his former best friend.

"So that's what it's like," he said coldly. "When the Great Harry Potter isn't in the team any more, he isn't interested in the game. I truly thought you were different, you know, but apparently all you care is yourself and your fame and glory. And to think that I was your friend for over four years!"

Harry shook his head.

"Look, Ron, you have acted like a prat since Christmas. I don't feel like celebrating right now, and I just want to be alone and think. It's got nothing to do with 'fame' or 'glory'. Or quidditch. Please let it be, I don't want to fight with you."

'I've got enough enemies to fight through even without you,' he added in his mind.

Ron huffed and turned back to join the crowd that hadn't noticed the confrontation between the two former best friends. Harry noticed Hermione on one corner, trying to simultaneously read and participate in the party. They made eye contact and Harry noticed the worrying look on her face. He would have to talk to her soon, she deserved to know what was going on. He should probably try to get all four of them in same place so they could do some brainstorming and get to know each other better. Or mainly introduce Daphne to the others. The game was about to get more serious and branch outside the castle walls, and he needed all the help he could get.

Together they would be stronger than separated.

-o0oOo0o-


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

-o0oOo0o-

Harry had been able to arrange a meeting with Daphne for Monday, and that was why he was walking towards the less often used north-western part of the castle with Hermione and Neville.

"Why are we going this way?" asked Hermione, annoyed for not knowing all of the details.

"Relax, I'll explain it all once we get there."

'There' turned out to be an unused common room for visiting professors, where a small fire was burning in the fireplace and Daphne Greengrass was sitting in an armchair, waiting.

"Harry, what is she doing in here?", asked Neville, more than a little nervous for seeing one of the Slytherins waiting for them.

"_She_ is the reason why we are here. Daphne, meet Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger."

Daphne nodded to the two. "Granger. Longbottom."

Both Hermione and Neville stayed silent, and Harry sighed at the reaction of his two friends. "Really, guys, not all Slytherins are Death Eaters."

Hermione was the first to wake from her stupor. "But almost all Death Eaters are Slytherins. No offence, but there really seems to be quite strong correlation between those two."

At this point Daphne decided that it would be up to her to make this partnership work, so she opened her mouth.

"None taken. Although I'm genuinely surprised why it is so. I mean, the way they act, one would rather place the Death Eaters as gryffindorish Hufflepuffs, not Slytherins. A Slytherin really should have more ambition than to blindly follow some Dark Lord."

Harry barked a short laugh at Daphne's comment.

"What was so funny about that?", asked Hermione, who was still a bit confused about it all.

"I just remembered when I first met Malfoy. It was my first time in Diagon Alley, and I had no idea who he was, or what the houses were all about. And there he was going on about how he would rather die than be sorted to Hufflepuff. And Daphne's comment just brought up how funny it is that Malfoy actually might be more of a Hufflepuff than he would like to think."

- O -

With ice properly broken and introductions made, the four students were able to focus on the actual agenda they had. Hermione was still a bit apprehensive of Daphne, especially after she had bluntly explained her plan of using Harry for her own ends, but when Harry had told her about Daphne's role in pacifying Umbridge, Hermione's position had softened a lot.

Soon enough the conversation found it's way to Snape, and his role in everything,

"Daphne, have you got any ideas what to do with Snape?" Harry asked.

"Actually, yes. And the idea I have might solve a few more problems, too."

Hermione was again scandalized. "Harry, you can't have Snape killed! I mean, he is important part of the Order, and this is our OWL-year. How do you plan to get through of the exams if you remove on of the teachers? I do understand why you are angry at him, but still."

"Hermione", Harry said. "No one has said anything about getting Snape killed. Although I wouldn't object too much if someone did. And really, has Snape really given any meaningful information to the order? Or has the order acted on any of the information?"

"Well, he did tell that Voldemort was after the prophecy..."

"Yes, and look where that led them. Arthur was attacked and almost died. Had Dumbledore just told me about it, the prophecy would have been sitting safely inside Gringotts for years now. Dumbledore has always been too afraid to act, as it might have compromised his spy. Or at least I hope that has been his reason, as it the only rational one I can think of."

At this point Neville decided to pipe in: "And Hermione, Snape really isn't that great of a teacher, either. You do know how he acts in class. Have you ever seen him help or correct students? He just hovers around like a bat, intimidating everyone, and yells if someone does something wrong. Personally I believe I'd do much better in OWLs if I would just spend the potions classes studying by myself than sitting in the dungeons with Snape."

Hermione looked a bit offended, but didn't say anything.

"Well, anyway", said Daphne, "my plan about Snape isn't about killing him. What I propose is a bit different. You know how Umbridge is here in school to try to uncover some kind of secret conspiracy Dumbledore has going on? Well, I say we give Snape to her. We tell her that we believe Snape is working on some secret project for Dumbledore, as he seems to be travelling out of the castle frequently. And that we are afraid what the two might do to us. We act just like she believes good little ministry subjects should do. Umbridge is bound to jump on an opportunity to stick it in with Dumbledore, especially after her latest defeat, so she will call in the aurors and arrest Snape.

"At the same time, we will contact Amelia Bones, the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I heard that Susan Bones, her niece, was in the last meeting of your defence group, so I believe she was in the secret group too?" Harry and Hermione both nodded. "Right, so she must have told her Aunt during Christmas that she believes in you, Potter. So we tell Bones that Umbridge is going to have Snape arrested, so that when it happens, the DMLE will be ready to pump him full of veritaserum and ask the right questions in front of the right witnesses. As a result we will have Snape arrested and the ministry won't be able to deny the return of Voldemort any more."

Harry, Hermione, and Neville were gob-smacked.

"Wow", said Harry. "That's bloody brilliant. And the best part is that we don't actually need to do anything, they'll do it all by themselves!"

"What about the prophecy?", asked Hermione. "You probably don't want it's existence to become public knowledge, do you, Harry? There's a risk that it might come up in any interrogation with Snape, especially if there's veritaserum involved."

Harry looked pensive.

"You're right. Damn it! We'll probably have to tell Bones about the prophecy too, so that she can try to limit the questions to safe areas. I think Dumbledore will spring Snape out of any jail very soon after the initial interrogation, so there won't be much risk of any further investigations, so we should try to control the interrogation as much as possible."

"Right", said Daphne. "Today is Monday, so you have a meeting of your defence group the day after tomorrow. Try to talk with Susan after it, and make her arrange a meeting with her aunt. I'll think up a list of questions for DMLE, that should be safe enough in regards of the prophecy, but give enough information to make Snape's position in the school unsustainable and to leave no doubt about Voldemort's existence."

The four concluded their meeting and left each to their classes. First part of their plan would commence later that week.

- O -

The Defence Association had become the new greatest thing since Quidditch in Hogwarts. In fact the attendance in the first public meeting had been so large, that they had had to limit it for only third years and up to keep it manageable. The old DA had agreed to play it down for the first few times so as to not to flaunt their previous practising too much in front of Umbridge, but still the look on Umbridge's face had been priceless when Harry had given a short lecture on Patronus Charm, and how it was useful if they would ever end up face to face with a dementor, like Harry had done the summer before. The fact that the charm was perfectly safe and of purely defensive nature helped only to increase her annoyance, and when Harry demonstrated by conjuring his brilliantly gloving silver Prongs she turned around on her heels and left the great hall where professor Flitwick was clapping enthusiastically for Harry's patronus.

The rest of the session went well, too, with the older members helping others, and the mood was very cheerful with multiple silvery animals prancing, galloping, flying and swimming around the Great Hall much to the joy and amazement of the various professors that had came by to watch what the group was all about.

As he was walking around giving encouragement and help to others Harry stopped by Susan.

"I need to talk with you after the meeting", he said.

Susan looked confused, as Harry hadn't really talked with her personally, but couldn't see any reason why not, and answered affirmatively.

- O -

When the meeting was over, Harry left the hall and found Susan waiting for him in the entrance hall.

"Hi, Harry", the red-headed Hufflepuff greeted him. "You said you wanted to talk?"

"Yes. Lets find some place more private."

A short walk and one stairs down Harry and Susan were in an empty room close to Hufflepuff common room.

"You know how I'm saying that Voldemort is back and the minister doesn't want to believe?" Harry started.

"Yes. And aunt Amelia is really angry about that. She has repeatedly asked for more money for her aurors, but Fudge doesn't want to even listen to her."

"Oh, that's good. Or I mean mean bad. I mean, I have this plan how I'll provide the ministry evidence that I'm right, and force them to do something about it. And I would like to have your Aunt's help in it."

"I don't know...", Susan answered cautiously. "Auntie has warned me about people who want to use me to influence her... And she doesn't want me to act like Malfoy, and flaunt her position in front of everybody."

"But I'm not really asking anything more than to try and arrange a meeting between me and your aunt", Harry reasoned. "She can then decide herself what to do about it. I was thinking about the Hogsmeade weekend next week."

"Well, maybe I could write her a letter", Susan relented.

"Great! Your help might really make a difference in this war, you know."

Susan blushed lightly from Harry's praise, and they started to leave. Just as he was about to open the door, Harry remembered something more.

"You know, I really don't want Dumbledore to know that I'm planning anything. He probably wouldn't agree on my methods, anyway. So I would appreciate if you didn't mention this to anyone. And when you write to your aunt, tell her to not to include Kingsley Shacklebolt on any security detail that she might or might not have with her. He is a great auror but he reports to Dumbledore about what's going on in the ministry. Tonks does too, but I think she will keep my secrets if I just ask her."

Susan looked a bit shocked that Harry would want to do anything behind Dumbledore's back or use methods which the headmaster wouldn't approve, but agreed none the less to keep their meeting quiet. Harry and Susan said good nights and parted to head to their own common rooms.

- O -

When Harry arrived to his dormitory, he immediately took out his communication mirror and called Sirius.

"Hi kiddo!", Sirius answered to Harry's call. "Thanks for Charlus, by the way. He's great! The sneaky bastard apparently has dirt on everyone that lived at the same time with him. Almost as soon as I got him hanged up on the wall here he went to have a chat with my lovely mother, and I haven't seen her ever since. He doesn't want to divulge what kind of hideous threat he made to make her go away, but I tell you it had to be something big."

Harry laughed. Sirius mother had been true pain when he had stayed at the grim house, and to make her hide in shame was truly a feat worth mentioning.

"It's good to hear you two have had fun. Been busy plotting how to take over the world?"

This time it was Sirius' time to laugh. "Actually that's not that much off the target. Charlus has been thinking up ways to exploit your position as a heir of a noble house before you can take up your seat in Wizengamot, and also what to do with the Daily Prophet."

"Exploit my what? Why do I hear about these things I apparently am only after someone else is plotting how to use them?"

"Oh, so you didn't know? No one has told you about Potter's being a Noble house and what it means?"

"Well, no. It's not like I've had a godfather or something telling me about my family", Harry said sarcastically, not little annoyed. "Everyone just seems to think I know everything already, and don't bother to tell me anything."

Sirius looked a little ashamed, and a bit of colour was creeping on his otherwise pale cheeks. "Well, I did think you already knew... But anyway, you will have a seat in Wizengamot when you are adult. I would have one, too, if I wasn't currently an escaped convict."

"Right. Well, do tell me when you two come up with something. But I really called to give you a status report on our plan about Snape. The plan is to reveal Snape to Umbridge as Dumbledore's secret agent who is working to debase the government, and watch the ministry to rip him apart. Only that we are trying to give Amelia Bones heads up about the situation, so that she can interrogate Snape with veritaserum and make the ministry to realize that Voldemort really is out there. It will probably be Death Eaters that will take care of him in the end, if Dumbledore doesn't find a way to protect him, but I'm not really opposed to giving them the opportunity."

"Wow", was all Sirius was able to say.

"That was my reaction, too, when Daphne told us about the plan."

"I'm impressed. You can think what ever you like about those Slytherins, but they sure know how to plot. You're lucky to have her on your side."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to think that's the case, too. But the actual reason I was calling you was to ask you to warn Tonks. I might have told Susan to tell her aunt, Amelia, that Tonks and Kingsley are working for Dumbledore, so that Amelia knows to not to tell them about her meeting me. I'm not terribly impressed with Dumbledore's track record this far, and I have an itch that he might not approve of my getting rid of his carefully cultivated spy."

"Good thinking there, kiddo. I'll tell her."

"Thanks. Good night, Sirius!"

"Good night, pup."

- O -

The next one and a half weeks flew by fast. Harry was somewhat able to concentrate on school work and Hermione was starting to obsess about the coming OWL-exams. Then there was also continuing duelling training with Neville in the Room of Requirement (Neville was showing tremendous improvement in every subject that required a wand with his new one, and his confidence had also received a visible boost), and the almost constant dance to avoid Snape as well as humanly possible. The potions master had looked Harry strangely during his last class, but didn't seem too concerned about it. Susan had delivered her aunts reply on Tuesday the next week and she had agreed on meeting Harry in the Three Broomsticks in next Saturday.

As Friday was passing by Daphne had also delivered the list of questions she had been working on, and feeling of nervous anticipation had started to rise it's head in Harry's stomach. This would be it. This would be Harry's first foray into the world of real politics, not only some school yard games. The outcome of the meeting next day might well factor in the lives of every citizen of Magical Britain.

And so it was Saturday, and Harry, Hermione and Neville were leaving the castle for a carriage ride to Hogsmeade. Amelia was going to be waiting for Harry in a private room in the pub. The ride was silent, with each of the three thinking about what effect the meeting would have. But in the end, Harry found himself behind closed door waiting for someone to answer for his knock.

"Enter", called a strict female voice that reminded Harry of Neville's grandmother Augusta.

- O -

The Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was a powerful woman. Being able to climb up the ladders of bureaucratic hierarchy until she was the head of one of the most important departments in the Ministry of Magic despite her gender (especially as the auror force was traditionally very much dominated by men) truly said something about her abilities.

Amelia was happy in her job, and didn't have any great ambitions of greater political power. The world of Law Enforcement was simple and straightforward enough for a woman of her ideals to like. The need to constantly navigate through the sea filled with hungry sharks in form of arrogant Lords would make her very miserable indeed, although she, like every other employee in the history of bureaucracies, felt that the current buffoons in lead could be replaced by chimpanzees and no one would notice the difference.

The current state of the ministry of magic had none the less made her very angry: the claim that Voldemort might have returned was a very serious one, and the fact that minister Fudge dismissed it as impossibility without any kind of investigation even when the case involved a dead student and the position was supported by Albus Dumbledore himself seemed irresponsible to say the least. But no, the only thing that Fudge had made was to oust Dumbledore as Chief Warlock and start spewing slander in the Daily prophet. The abomination of a trial the minister had staged for the Potter heir fought also against everything Amelia believed in.

So, when she had received a letter from her niece Susan saying that Harry Potter wanted to meet her with a plan that involved forcing the minister to see the truth about Voldemort she was extremely intrigued. And even more so, when the same letter warned her about two of her better aurors playing for two different teams. In the end, the decision that lead her waiting in a private room in the Three Broomstick pub in Hogsmeade for Harry to arrive had been an easy one.

- O -

Harry entered the room, and immediately saw an important looking woman with a monocle on her right eye standing by the table in the room.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter", she said, offering her hand to Harry.

"You too, Madam Bones"

Amelia sat down, poured some more water on her glass and went straight to business.

"I understood you needed my help with something."

"Yes. As you know, I saw Voldemort being resurrected during the aftermath of the third task almost a year ago. I told about this to Dumbledore and the minister himself, but the minister decided to not to believe what I was saying. Now I believe I have a plan, that, if successful, will provide evidence that cannot be denied."

Amelia took a sip from her glass. "I'm listening."

"Well, as you no doubt know, the minister has appointed Dolores Umbridge as a Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, with a real mission of trying to uncover Dumbledore's plans to overthrow the current regime. My plan involves revealing Professor Snape to her as an agent of Dumbledore's, with hope that she will act by arresting him. Now, I know that Snape is working as a secret agent for Dumbledore, but as a spy in Voldemort's ranks. And this is where you and your aurors come in. When Snape is arrested, I wish you to interrogate him with veritaserum with enough witnesses present, so that when he tells that Voldemort actually has returned, the evidence cannot be simply swiped under the rug."

Amelia leaned back in her chair, and cleaned her monocle with a napkin.

"So you really don't want me to do anything else than simply my job, and only ensure that right questions are asked and any evidence is acted upon?"

"Yes, that's basically it", Harry replied. "But there are a few details that I would like to have taken care of. First of them is about something that I really don't want to become public knowledge."

This request made Amelia frown. "I'm not going to hide any evidence, if that's what you are asking for, young man."

"No, nothing like that. You see... Well... The thing is, there is a prophecy."

"A prophecy?"

"Yes, a prophecy. Basically it says that it must be I who will 'vanquish' Voldemort. And Snape knows about that, and Voldemort is currently working to find a way to find out what it really says. The prophecy is the reason why he came after my family all those years ago. And I really don't want the public or even the minister to know that. I hope you can see why."

If Amelia was shocked by the revelation, she didn't show it. But she still took her time to think about this new information.

"Yes... Yes I can see what you mean. If it was widely known, there would be enormous pressure on you, and on the other hand more people would think that Voldemort really is going to win the upcoming war and not even try to fight against the Death Eaters."

"Exactly. I'm trying to come up with something that would eventually enable me to fulfil the prophecy, but the way I see it Voldemort is enough responsibility for me, the Death Eaters should be taken care by someone else. Preferably the ministry."

"Right. So you want me to guide the questions to direction where the prophecy wouldn't come up?"

"Yes. In fact, I have here a list of questions that should take care of that", Harry said handing the list over to Amelia, "— and also reveal other things that should be brought to the ministry's knowledge."

Amelia looked over the list, and was impressed. The questions were beautifully crafted to extract just right amount information, but still left room for other things to be left unsaid.

"Alright. I'll see what I can do", she said. "Now, there was this thing about some of my aurors leaking information to the Headmaster. Do you know anything more about that?"

"Yeah, well, Tonks and Kingsley are part of Dumbledore's secret group called 'Order of the Phoenix'. I don't know how much they have actually told to him, but right now I'm not really trusting the Headmaster to do the right thing, so I don't want him to know that I'm planning anything."

Amelia didn't comment on Harry's trust issues with Dumbledore, but committed them to memory none the less. Dumbledore was a great sorcerer, but Amelia too found it sometimes hard to work with the old man.

"Well, this was certainly a nicer meeting than the last one we had", she said, rising up from her chair. "And I thank you for helping my niece with her spells. She has been very supportive for you in her letters home."

Harry blushed slightly from the praise. "Thank you, ma'am. And Susan has been great in the DA."

"That's good to hear. Good bye, Mr. Potter."

"Good bye, Madam Bones."

Amelia left the room, and Harry gave her enough time to get out before leaving himself. It wouldn't do to be seen together with her.

- O -

Next Monday when Harry arrived to the Great Hall for breakfast he immediately knew the plan was success: Dolores Umbridge was smiling broadly in the head table, glancing predatory looks towards Snape. Harry gave a small nod to Daphne, who had arranged for the information to reach Umbridge, and went to sit down in the Gryffindor table next to Hermione and Neville. Now all he had to do was to wait for the show to begin.

The wait wasn't long, and soon enough a trio of aurors, including Kingsley Shacklebolt who looked a bit nervous, entered through the doors of the Great Hall and marched towards the head table.

"Professor Snape, you are under arrest for conspiring for rebellion against the Ministry of Magic. We ask you to surrender your wand and come with us", said one of the other aurors.

Snape looked ready to explode, but there was a sliver of fear to be seen by anyone who looked closely enough. Which was everyone in the Great Hall.

"What is this? Some kind of stupid prank?", he asked, with a voice that would cause any student to cover with fear. Even the aurors looked a bit nervous.

"No", came the voice of Umbridge. "One of the students reported your suspicious activity outside the castle and with Dumbledore, and I called in the aurors."

"Potter! It has to be Potter! It's always Potter!", Snape shouted, while Dumbledore tried to calm the potions master down.

"No, actually it was one of your Slytherins who gave the information. Clearly this whole school isn't quite lost yet."

"Who was it?" Snape shouted, getting more and more angry. "Who of you miserable twats was it? I'll personally break your neck when I hear the name!"

"Severus", said Dumbledore with a serious voice. "You really need to calm down and leave with the aurors. I'll take care of this misunderstanding."

Snape looked at Dumbledore, who looked back. Finally Snape seemed to deflate, sighed, stepped down from the podium where the head table was situated and gave his wand to the aurors. Then he left the hall with the aurors walking behind him.

When the group had disappeared behind the doors Dumbledore left too, and exited whispering broke out in the Hall.

- O -

Later that day Harry was cornered by the Weasley twins in the Gryffindor common room.

"Tell us", said who Harry decided was Fred.

"Tell us how you did it", George echoed his brother.

"Did what?" Harry asked.

"Don't play daft."

"We know you did it."

"You heard Snape yourself: it's always Potter."

"And you decided it was a good idea to believe what Snape says about me?", Harry asked, but couldn't quite keep his face straight.

"Ah, well, no, but in this case the way you were smiling was kind of a give-away."

"Everyone else was smiling, too, or at least everyone who isn't Slytherin."

"But you were smiling already the moment you entered the Hall. You knew it was coming. We know that smile, we see it on each others face every time we pull a prank."

"Okay, I might have had a hand in it", Harry admitted his defeat. "But this wasn't a prank. I hope it will change the way the war is going. It's quite serious, and you mustn't say anything about it to anyone."

The twins looked at each other, and nodded.

"We promise", said George.

"Anything for our great secret financier."

"Anything for the son of Prongs and the godson of Padfoot."

"Alright you jokers, I have work to do."

- O -

News about Daphne's plan's success came the next morning in form of a flock of owls. Immediately anxious murmuring began as the students started to read their newspapers. Hermione opened hers, and saw the front page:

_HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS!  
>Ministry of Magic confirms rumours about the return of You-Know-Who.<em>

_In a shocking press conference yesterday evening Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed the rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has indeed managed the impossible, and returned from the dead. Minister said that recently uncovered evidence meant that it was not necessary to continue the previous policy of not confirming the rumours that have been circulating among the citizens since the tragic end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year. The minister continued by assuring that the ministry had not been resting on it's laurels for the last year, but instead has been working undercover against the new old enemy. According to the minister the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and it's director Amelia Bones have free hands to take care of the problem as they see best, and that he trusts implicitly that our fine aurors are up to the task._

_The Daily Prophet was unable to contact Amelia Bones for comments. Her secretary claimed that the director was too busy to give an interview._

_read more:  
>The most important events of last war p. 4<br>Why Dumbledore tried to reveal top secret ministry operation? p. 6_

- O -

"The utter bastards!", shouted Harry when he, Hermione, Neville and Daphne had managed to gather together in the Room of Requirements during lunch hour.

"How dare the fucking idiot say anything like that? 'We have been working in secret, don't worry'? Hah, as if. And then blaming Dumbledore for trying to publicize 'the secret ministry operation' that didn't even exist? How can he get away with that kind of shit?"

"Harry, calm down", said Hermione. "We knew the ministry and the Daily Prophet are a bunch of liars. Honestly, what did you expect?"

"I don't know. It's just... Argh!"

"Granger has a point", Daphne said. "There was no way the ministry would have admitted they were wrong. They are politicians, remember. Lying is their job."

Harry sat heavily down on a coach the room had provided, and held his head with his hands.

"It's just... And then there was the part of 'giving Amelia free hands'. I guess that means that the minister is putting all responsibility on her, and if something goes wrong she is the one who has to go. Even if she is only one who has all this time wanted to actually do something, or at least investigate if there's any truth behind the rumours."

The four sat in silence for a while.

"And all these lies are printed in my newspaper..."

"Err..." started Neville. "Does anyone have any ideas?"

"I don't know if we can do anything", said Hermione. "And really, the ministry might actually start acting now, even if they don't admit being wrong."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Potter is right. It's not very likely that Fudge is going to do anything that would really matter. He really isn't the right man for his position, he has been a puppet for Malfoy and Dumbledore as long as he has been in office. And now Malfoy is probably hiding somewhere and Fudge still believes Dumbledore is after his position. He won't be able to do anything. And Umbridge isn't going to help as his personal under-secretary."

Daphne paused to think for a moment.

"Only way forward that I can see is through Wizengamot. Potter has a seat waiting for him, as does Longbottom. Potter has money, and if we manage to get the Prophet under our command, he has also the media. The only problem right now is that he is not of age, and can't really control his assets."

"Right. And then there's the fact that I'm still at school, and can't really play politics. And I don't know anything about how the Wizengamot is working."

"Well, true, but I'm sure there's some loopholes that would allow you to use at least some of your resources, and you can always learn. I think trying to find those loopholes should be the next line of action."

"Alright. Lets do that."

-o0oOo0o-

A/N I made a small adjustment to the previous chapter, namely to the size of the Potter investments. I realized that if Harry had over 100 million galleon worth of investments, he could probably hire a battalion of foreign mercenaries and do a military style coup d'etat using only the income generated by said investments. I'm using an exchange rate of about 10-20 €/£/$ per galleon, which means that the cost of an auror with training, equipment, insurances, facilities and wages is something like 2000 galleons per month.

Harry is still filthy rich, but not rich enough to buy out the whole wizarding Britain all by himself. And he will use his money to do more than just buy a set of fancy robes and a trunk with an apartment...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

-o0oOo0o-

Draco Malfoy was confused. The school year had started great: the threat of the Dark Lord had allowed him the rule over Slytherin house, and his father had managed to convince Fudge that it was a good idea to keep an eye on Dumbledore. The new ministry appointed defence teacher was finally someone who understood the importance of magical heritage, and not some muggle-loving half-breed like the werewolf had been. He had also been made prefect, which made it even easier for him to lord over other students, especially Potter. The only thing that had shadowed the perfect school experience had been Potter's secret organization, but even it had allowed Draco to get closer to Umbridge and gained him more power.

But then something had gone completely wrong. First there had been the public outcry against Umbridge, and she had been forced to abandon some of her better ideas, like the personal squad of enforcers that would have been under Draco's command. And then Potter had had the gall to stop hiding and had somehow managed to force Umbridge's hand on the issue. And now saint Potter and his group were the centre of all attention, and even some of his Slytherins had joined it!

The biggest blow, though, had been the arrest of Snape. Umbridge had gone and arrested his head of House, and on the prompting of one of the Slytherins! Didn't the stupid toad know that Snape was working for the Dark Lord, not Dumbledore?

And now, there was the latest headline in Daily Prophet:

_SEVERAL PROMINENT MEMBERS OF SOCIETY SUSPECTED VICTIMS OF THE IMPERIUS CURSE_

_Ministry of Magic has called several members of society for questioning concerning the return of You-Know-Who. Among those are the respected Lord Lucius Malfoy, who, as we all remember, was forced to commit atrocious acts under the Imperius curse during the last rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Information gathered by the ministry has left the minister to believe that he and the others may well have been subjected to the unforgivable curse yet again, as eyewitnesses interrogated under the truth serum claim have seen them in the presence of You-Know-Who. As this paper went to print, none of the suspected victims had been found yet._

_Lord Lucius Malfoy became known also for his generosity fourteen years ago after he donated considerable sum of money to St. Mungo's hospital as soon as he was released from the terrible hold of the Imperius curse, "as a reparation from a man, who should have been able to better stand against the might of the Dark Lord". _

_We at the Daily Prophet hope that Lord Malfoy and his fellow patriots are found and freed from the curse as soon as possible._

Yes. Things didn't look good for Draco Malfoy. His strongest supporter, professor Snape, was gone. His father was hiding from the ministry. Umbridge was powerless to hurt Potter or help him any more. But he wasn't a Malfoy for nothing. Someone had to pay for this injustice, and someone had to pay dearly. He just wasn't quite sure yet who would be the one to suffer the wrath of Malfoy, as apparently Potter was for once not behind this. Draco Malfoy crunched the paper in his hands and went down to the dungeons to write a letter to his father.

- O -

The days passed by, and not much happened. Umbridge had turned even more quiet and timid with the acknowledgement of Voldermort's return and Snape's classes were cancelled as Dumbledore was working for the potions master's release, and if that failed, to find a new instructor. Hermione had bunkered down in the library and was going trough the thousand years of legislation the wizarding society in Britain was based upon while simultaneously stressing about the exams. Daphne continued her previous act of well behaved Slytherin heiress who didn't show much emotion in public. And who definitely didn't associate with Gryffindors.

The Defence Association had gathered even more interest, and Harry had his hands full with constant questions from students and the continued training with Neville, who was beginning to show glimpses of greatness during their sessions. Being accepted as a member in Harry's inner circle certainly helped bolster the previously timid boy's self esteem, and as his new wand allowed better control of his magic, Neville had found new confidence in classes as well.

The change to the routine came with Sirius, when Harry called him the next weekend.

"Hi Sirius!", Harry said.

"Hi pup! Listen, I've been talking with Charlus, and I think we might have a plan forming. Charlus thinks that you should work to get his old allies in Wizengamot working with you to get rid of Fudge."

"Yeah, I talked with the others too, and we came to pretty much the same conclusion. Hermione's been practically living in the library trying to find something that would allow me to actually use what I have even if I'm a minor."

"Oh, good. I'm not that good with the laws myself, but if something like that exists, it can be found in the Hogwarts library and Hermione is probably going to find it."

"Let's hope so."

"Yes. But back to our plan, we think that the coming Easter would be a good time to call the old people together and see where they are standing. Charlus thinks you should be able to get Augusta host some kind of meeting for the old friends, and then you could throw them the idea of re-forming the old party. You are, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived who has just been declared as being right from the beginning, your support will mean a lot for any politician, even if you're not able to use the Potter seat in Wizengamot."

Harry thought about it. He really didn't like the name he had received when his parents died, but he had to grudgingly admit that not using that little bit of extra leverage people had freely given him would be stupid. But he still would rather be there himself talking in front of Wizengamot as Harry Potter, the last of the Potters than standing in the sidelines as some kind of poster boy. Even if the idea of actually standing in front of the Wizengamot scared the bejesus out of him.

"I'll talk to Neville about it. I don't like being a poster boy, but if it gets things done, it's better than nothing", Harry said finally.

"I know how much you hate your fame, but the current minister really can't do anything, and you just might be what it takes to actually get him out of office."

"I know, I know. But I still hope Hermione will be able to find something. I really hate being used as a tool, even if I was used to do the right thing. I want to be my own person."

"That's what I hope too. Now, how far have you already gone with this Slytherin of yours? You need any tips?"

"Sirius! Daphne is not my girlfriend. She is helping me to help her, that's all there is."

"You keep telling yourself that, kiddo", Sirius said, smirking. "Now it's time for good little children to go to bed. Hope we see on Easter!"

"Yeah, see you."

- O -

The next evening Harry called together a meeting of his War Council, as he had started to call their little group in his head. It had took some time to convince Hermione to leave the library, but eventually they were all present in the Room of Requirement.

"Before we talk about what I got, has any of you found anything that might be of use to get me free to do what I must?", Harry started.

"I haven't really done research on that, but I've done some estimations on the current balance of the Wizengamot. With the actual Death Eaters gone hiding, there is now forty three lords, with ten suspected Death Eater sympathizers. Fudge's relative share has actually gone up, but a lot of his supporters are not exactly loyal to him. The real problem with any vote to remove Fudge will be that the Voldemort sympathizers will probably vote for him just because he is so incompetent. But if you can get Amelia Bones in your corner, you might be able to gather enough support to oust Fudge. And with Fudge gone, it shouldn't be impossible to get the former Fudge supporters to support a new, better candidate", Daphne explained.

"Right. Hermione?"

"I haven't found anything concrete yet", Hermione said, looking a bit ashamed for not being successful in her research. "The best I got is that there are precedents for under age noble lords, but they are already centuries old. And they had special circumstances, that I'm not sure will be applicable to you or Neville."

"Don't worry, if anyone will find anything, it'll be you", Harry assured Hermione, who straightened her back a little. "Now, you all remember how I told about the portrait of my grandfather, Charlus, I found in Gringotts? Well, I've been communicating with him, and he thinks I should try and gather together what remains of the old Potter-Longbottom-Malfoy party. He suggested that your gran, Neville, could maybe call in a party during Easter, and then I could come there too and do some politicking. We could probably get Amelia Bones there, too."

Neville looked proud to be able to do something important. "I'll send gran a letter as soon as we finish. I'm sure she'll be delighted to help."

"Good. I'll try and get Charlus there too. He was quite disappointed that I couldn't get him anywhere where he could have heard all the latest gossip. And the man is apparently a genius in politics, and knows everyone there is to know. Or at least he did twenty years ago."

Daphne looked pensive and chewed her lover lip. "Maybe you should ask your gran to invite my parents there too, Neville. I really should tell them about all this, and even if my father doesn't do much politics, he is still a well connected pureblood businessman. He should be able to at least somewhat fill the gap Malfoy's have left in the party."

Harry thought about this. Daphne had been extremely helpful in getting things working the way they should, and it was only right that her family would know about what was going on. And Harry recognized that this was probably one of the things that Daphne had meant when she talked about profiting from Harry.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked. "Their involvement wouldn't stay secret, and it would instantly paint a target on them, and on you, too.

"And really, I would like to keep you as a secret weapon, as someone who is working in the shadows and behind enemy lines"

"What about we ask them to come visit before the others?", Neville piped in. "That way we could get the Greengrasses on board, and still keep them secret from the public, working behind the scenes. I agree with Daphne that it would be a good idea to tell her parents, and the Greengrasses as a bit greyer family could mesh in with others that wouldn't be as inclined to ally themselves with Longbottoms or Potters. Especially after all the libel in the Prophet, even if it was all false."

"That's actually quite a good idea, Longbottom. Let's do it that way. It's always easy to come out to the open, but it's impossible to go back to the background after that."

The four discussed a while still about their plans for upcoming holidays and to which direction Hermione should go with her research next, but separated soon enough to go and work on their individual homework. Or, in Neville's case, to write a letter to Augusta Longbottom.

- O -

Soon enough the Easter break begun, and Harry, Hermione and Neville were waiting for the train to depart. The three of them would floo from the station to the Longbottoms, and Daphne would arrive with her parents the next day. The actual party was going to be held during the weekend, with loads of good food and drink. Augusta had been more than happy to comply with Harry's wishes, and she thought the idea of getting back to politics was a good one. It had been too long since the Longbottom seat on the Wizengamot had last been occupied, as Augusta herself hadn't really seen much reason to use it since the hospitalization of her son. Of course, in hindsight it was easy to argue that she really should have tried to make a difference and find a better candidate than Fudge, but the war had left deep emotional wounds on her, and she still believed that it should be Frank who sat on the seat belonging to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom.

"What do you think, will this work?", asked Harry, who was getting more and more nervous for his first appearance as a politician. "Will they really be ready to listen to me, when it's only a few weeks ago that Prophet was still saying I'm delusional?"

"It'll be fine, Harry", assured Hermione. "They are all on our side, they will listen to you."

"Hermione's right", said Neville. "Gran's done a lot of asking around to be sure that they are all supportive. We won't want any differing voices on the first meeting. This will be the core of our group, and they will all have same opinions of most issues. We won't be gathering support from others until later."

"I just hope you're right", Harry sighed, watching out of the as the train rolled out of Hogsmeade and started to gather speed.

"When is the last time I was wrong", joked Hermione, trying to lighten the mood.

The trip back to London went quietly. There were aurors positioned on the train as a reaction to the threat of Death Eaters, but Harry didn't really believe that there would be an attack. There were too many children of the Death Eaters on the train for that to happen, and Voldemort would lose even more support in the Wizengamot if he attacked the train. No, Voldemort would probably start small, eliminating more vocal enemies, creating terror by attacking individual homes. Going for an all out war against a major target like the Hogwarts Express would only serve to unify the nation, and the Death Eaters wouldn't stand a chance if everyone would fight back. But Harry knew Voldemort was too smart for that, and the general public was too stupid to act without being forced to.

Eventually the train arrived to London, and Harry, Neville and Hermione went on to wait for their turn to use the public fireplace to floo away.

- O -

"Mr. Potter, it's good to see you again!", greeted Augusta Longbottom when Harry stumbled out of the fireplace. "And you must be Ms. Granger. Neville has told a lot about you in his letters. How do you do."

"It's good to be back, Lady Longbottom."

"Please, I've told you to call me Augusta. Let's leave the posturing to when there's others around."

With the greetings over, Harry and Hermione were showed to upstairs, where guest rooms were situated. They were certainly nice enough, with the furniture continuing the Victorian feel of the manor itself and bathroom situated right next to the rooms on the corridor. After settling down Harry went down to the library, where Charlus had been hanged up; Tonks had delivered the portrait earlier.

"Hi Charlus!", Harry greeted the portrait, still feeling a bit weird starting conversations with a painting.

"Greetings, descendant!", Charlus said, with a mock pompousness. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just hoping you would tell me if this is the right thing to do. I'm really not comfortable with this kind of things."

Charlus frowned. He had had many long talks with Sirius about Harry, and had a good idea what his grandson's childhood had been like. He was angry at Dumbledore for allowing that kind of treatment; no Potter should have as low self esteem as Harry seemed to have. Potters were a noble family, and as such natural leaders, performing in front of audience should have been the first thing a Potter was taught as a child. Even if James had maybe taken that lesson a bit too far...

"Listen, son. I know you haven't been raised to do this kind of things, but you are a Potter, and that really means something in our society, even without your added fame as the Boy-Who-Lived. And you have already proved yourself as a competent wizard when you won the Triwizard Tournament against older competitors."

"But the tournament was rigged to ensure my victory. I didn't actually win it with my own merits"

"Nonsense! Sure, there was external influence, but just remember that the other champions had their headmasters helping them, too. And no one knows about any of that, and in politics appearance is everything. If the others believe you are a born leader, then you are a born leader. Just look at Dumbledore: the man is as incompetent as a leader as they come, but he holds many of the most important positions because people believe in him. But if you look closer, he hasn't been able to do any real decisions, or managed to make our country a better place. Take his Order for example. What have they really done? Voldemort's been out there for almost a year, how many Death Eaters has Dumbledore taken down? You and your friends have done more than the supposed greatest wizard alive."

Harry though about it. He himself had seen Dumbledore as an infallible leader, but lately his illusions about the old man had started to crumble. And Charlus had a point. Sure, the Minister was acting against him, but then again Dumbledore's failures had started long ago, when he had failed to stick any kind of punishments to the most influential Death Eaters. If Dumbledore had managed to throw Malfoy and other Death Eaters in Azkaban after last war, the government wouldn't be nearly as corrupt as it was now, and everything would be going a lot smoother. Or if Dumbledore had showed more interest in getting a competent man as the Minister, instead of looking from sidelines when Fudge had been elected. It was common knowledge that Dumbledore could have been the minister if he had wanted, surely his recommendation would have been enough to get almost anyone elected?

"I see from your face that you have understood what I mean", Charlus continued. "You only need to believe in yourself, and everything else comes after that."

"But what right do I have to become a leader? And how do you know I'm going to be any better than Dumbledore or anyone else?"

"Ah, what right does anyone have? Being a leader is your birthright, and even if you or I may agree that hereditary positions may not be the best way forward, that's the way it currently is, and as it's working in your favour, you should definitely use it. Later, when the most pressing matter of Voldemort is taken care of, you can start working towards changing it if you feel like it.

"And really, I'm not suggesting that you should try to become a dictator, and Dumbledore's example shows us that one man having too much power will usually end up in bad situations. I'm just urging you to make your point about what you think should be done, and persuade others to see things your way. That's what politics are all about."

"But how can I do that? I mean, Voldemort was already there when you were in Wizengamot, how can I do any better job at turning peoples heads than you did?"

Charlus looked down, a bit ashamed. "The reasons I failed are a bit difficult to explain. How much do you know of the history of Wizengamot?"

"Not much. I'm not very good at history, and all our teacher talks about is Goblin rebellions."

"Ah, Albus hasn't got rid of Binns, then. Well, the Wizengamot began in the 10th century when group of important families gathered together to talk about ongoing wars and what to do about witch hunts. There were originally 24 families, and those families became later known as the 'Most Ancient Houses'. There are currently 6 Most Ancient Houses alive, and you should probably know about the Bones in addition to the Blacks and the Longbottoms."

"Yeah, Susan Bones is on my year, and I've met her aunt. She should be coming here, too."

"Right. But anyway, those 24 families made up the core of Wizengamot, and their seats were hereditary. Later on a few more seats were added, and when families died without designated heirs new titles were created to replace the extinct ones. Currently there's 28 hereditary seats for noble families in Wizengamot, one of which belongs to the Potters. The title of Baron Potter was created in 1807 with the support from the Longbottoms.

"In addition to hereditary seats of the noble houses there's also a degree of democracy in the Wizengamot. Common lords were added to the Charter of Wizengamot in 16th century, when one of the nobles wanted to reward one of his friends but couldn't gather enough support for creating new noble seat. The number of common lords is flexible, as one needs to gather five hundred votes of support to become one. At first this option wasn't used very much, and there was only a couple of common lords in Wizengamot. But the number rapidly rose as the population of wizarding Britain also rose as more and more muggleborns were born as the population of Britain in whole also rose. This is actually one of the main reason behind the pureblood supremacy movement: the old families are afraid that if the population continues to grow, the common lords will eventually have more power in Wizengamot than the nobles. Currently there are 20 common lords, so nobles still have a slight majority. In theory, however, if everyone gave their vote and the votes were divided optimally the common lords would have overwhelming majority even today.

"And then there are also a few seats that are reserved to the recipients of the Order of Merlin, First Class. That is how Dumbledore got his position in the Wizengamot."

"Okay, so noble lords, common lords and people with the Order of Merlin. How does this relate to you not being able to stop Voldemort decades ago?"

"Ah, but knowing the history is the key to understanding why things are the way they are. The most important political issues in the Wizengamot exist simply because of it's history. The blood issue you are familiar with, but another major one concerns the regulation of Magic. Some people would like to have tighter control what spells are considered 'dark' or illegal, while others would like to use what ever spells they like to. The one extreme in this battle is a blanket declaration of every non-ministry approved spells as 'dark', which of course is against everything the old families believe in."

"Why is that?", Harry asked.

"How much do you know about spell creation?"

"Not much. I didn't take arithmancy, I thought divination sounded easier", Harry replied, a little ashamed for his previous lack of effort in school work.

"Well, it's relatively easy to create your own spells. It's common that bright students create some while still in school, I believe your father for example created some prank spells with his friends. So imagine a thousand year old family with dozens of generations of brilliant people, and you have massive amounts of spells that are recorded only in the grimoires of those old families, or taught by father to son or mother to daughter. And it's not like those spells are all designed to kill or maim, either. Something as simple as washing dishes can be done in innumerably many ways with magic. You can vanish the stains, you can transfigure them to air or water, you can conjure a jet of water to clean it, you can charm and animate a brush to do it for you. You can have special potions that work with just those silver goblets that have been in your family for centuries. And all these things can be done in many, many different ways. And then of course there are ward schemes, duelling spells and rituals that are considered most sacred family secrets. A blanket declaration would make all these illegal, or at least force them to the open.

"So, there is basically two camps in the Wizengamot: old pureblood families that are afraid for their status and their secrets, and younger, not so pure blooded families that would like to control the spells used more, or at least sneak a peek at what the old families are guarding in their libraries. Now, what our group did in the sixties was that we supported the more liberal view in the blood question but the more traditional view in the 'dark' magic issue. That meant we were in the middle, and more often than not polls were decided by our votes. And really, most of the time the decisions made weren't even close to either issue, but more mundane things like allocation of funds, filling of positions or foreign relations. So we had a lot more actual power than the size of our group might have indicated.

"But then came Voldemort. In hindsight, it's easy to see that old Malfoy's death can be traced straight back to Voldemort, but it made a huge gap on our ranks none the less. Later, many more Lords form our party, mostly half-bloods of the common variety, were killed in death eater raids. The two other extremes didn't like us as we didn't completely support their views, and as our ranks were decimated there wasn't much we could do. Then, Jonathan died for old age, and I was alone of our team. I was killed after the last meeting of our party, and James was barely able to escape from Voldemort with your mother."

Charlus paused, clearly distressed from talking about the deaths of his closest friends and himself. Harry was also stunned. There was so much history he didn't know of. He had not known how his grandparents had died, or what they had done. The prophecy indicated that his parents had "thrice defied the Dark Lord", but he knew nothing of those instances.

Harry and Charlus were woken up from their thoughts by the door opening.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass. How are you are you on this fine evening?", Charlus greeted the two girls that had came in looking for Harry. Apparently Daphne had decided to come by to tell news from her parents.

"I was just giving my heir here a brief history lesson on the Wizengamot. I hear that the teaching in Hogwarts hasn't improved since my time there."

"Hello, Mr. Potter", Hermione answered, with a small smirk on her face. "The teaching is probably still the same, but I'm afraid that Harry's atrocious skill in the subject is more due to him sleeping during most classes."

Harry was about to defend himself, but Charlus beat him to it. "Are you implying that you are able to stay awake during Binns' classes? You astound me, young lady. I don't remember anyone from my time there who could have accomplished such a feat!"

Hermione's cheeks reddened, and it was Harry's turn to smile for his friend.

"And Miss Greengrass! A Slytherin pureblood! You truly have great taste when it comes to female companions, son. Not that I'm partial to the blood purity, but dear Dorea sure showed me the benefits of that particular combination."

Now properly embarrassed, the three teenagers started planning for the next few days meetings, with Charlus giving valuable advice where he could.

- O -

The following day dawned bright, with sun shining in Harry's room through the partially closed curtains. Harry hadn't been able to sleep well, as nervousness about the meetings of the next few days bothered his mind. Despite Charlus' encouragement and all the planning they had done Harry wasn't quite sure he could do it, and the Greengrasses that were supposed to come by today were a complete mystery to him. Daphne had assured that her parents were fine with the situation, and that she had already explained most of what was going on to them. But inevitably the morning turned into a day, and the day turned into afternoon, and Daphne's parents arrived via floo and came to meet Harry and the others in the sitting room.

Daphne's father, who Harry remember was called Damien, came forward to greet him.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. It's nice to finally meet you. I must say I'm intrigued by what scheme my daughter has cooked up."

"Nice to meet you too, sir. Please, call me Harry, even if Daphne insist on calling everybody by their last name."

Damien lifted his eyebrow and looked at Daphne. "Indeed? Well, then you must call me Damien."

After greeting Daphne's mother, Ariana Greengrass, everyone sat down and accepted drinks from Tippy the house elf. Damien was first to start conversation.

"I must admit that I was surprised when Daphne wrote the letter explaining her plan. I was already looking for possibilities to move my family to the continent when the Prophet printed the exposition on You-Know-Who. And it's still possible that I will go that way. But My daughter is nothing if not ambitious."

"Yes, I've noticed that Daphne is a true Slytherin. I must also admit that before I met her my view of Slytherins was quite limited. The most vocal of that house aren't exactly nice people."

"Well, I myself was a Ravenclaw when I was in Hogwarts, and it wasn't much better then, either. But from what Daphne tells me there's a substantial amount of quiet ones in Slytherin, too, that have their ambitions for other things than serving the Dark Lord."

"That's what I've understood, too."

"So, what do you propose we do. I understood you had a plan formed out that you wanted my co-operation in?"

At this point Augusta decided to join in.

"I have invited a group of like minded individuals for dinner on the weekend. We have agreed that our current leaders aren't up to the task of fighting a war, so we are going to resurrect the Potter-Longbottom party from the sixties and seventies and change them. Many of the old lords that were with us then are still alive, and I believe I have managed to identify a few new ones that will be good addition to our group. The problem is that Abraxas Malfoy was an important third wheel in our team back then, and his son obviously isn't available to us. So we want you to run for the office and fill the gap left by Malfoy."

"Me? How could I fill in for someone like Malfoy?"

"Ah, the point is, the Potters and the Longbottoms have a certain reputation, that might be aversive to some of the families out there. Malfoy's open alliance with us acted as a glue that allowed some of the 'darker' families to co-operate with us. And to be frank, your reputation is similar, even if it isn't as widespread, than Abe's was. You respect tradition, but aren't against muggleborns and half-bloods as you see their importance to our economy."

Damien looked at the glass on his hand, thinking about his options. He was a simple man, who wasn't too interested in fame and glory. But the possibility to take his family to the spotlight and be a hero was an attractive one. And if it meant that his daughter would get a chance at the life she wanted, who was he to say no?

"We don't expect you to decide right now, Mr. Greengrass", Harry said. "And I'm ready to support your campaign with money, if it's needed. Right now there's still some issues to be solved before I can access all of it, but the Potter fortune is substantial. And if you have some others that might be willing to run with you, we are willing to help them too."

"Well, there's always Paul. Paul Davis. He's an old family friend, and his daughter Tracey is Daphne's best friend..."

"Well, talk with him about this. You can communicate with me via Daphne, and I'm sure Augusta is willing to give advice in the more practical side of things", Harry continued, looking at the older Longbottom, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I'll do that", Damien agreed, standing up and offering his hand to his wife. "You have given us a lot to think about, but I feel it might be time for House Greengrass to make it's appearance in the politics of this country."

- O -

The remaining two days before the main event went by in frantic preparations. Harry was treated to a crash course in wizarding etiquette, he crammed in as much information as possible about the various guest that were invited. Charlus explained it was both useful and courteous to know about the background of the guests, as it made them feel respected and provided subjects for small talk without the need of revealing too much about yourself. Harry was also spirited to Diagon Alley to get a set of decent robes to wear after Augusta learned the state of Harry's wardrobe: you really can't give an impression of a serious player in the field of politics if you are dressed in a school uniform.

The preparations culminated to Hermione trying to groom Harry's hair to more respectable form. In the end she had to none the less give up, as it seemed the Potter hair was something no amount of magic could tame. Charlus was laughing deeply at his grandsons predicament when Harry ran away from Hermione, who was about to try the strongest hair gel she had managed to get her hands on.

Finally Harry was standing with Augusta in the foyer, dressed in his new robes, hair messy as ever and nervously repeating the appropriate greetings under his breath and trying to remember the names that belonged to the faces he had seen in photographs. Hermione was staying in the library, as this was now Harry's show, and the presence of another teenager would make it seem more of a group of children than a real alternative to current leadership. After what seemed like hours but was more probably only minutes the fire flashed green and an elderly gentleman emerged from the fireplace.

"Good evening, Lord McIntosh, it's been all too long", Augusta greeted the man. "I hope the Lady is well? I was so sorry to hear she couldn't make it here today. You surely have heard of Mr. Potter?"

- O -

It was a tired Harry who entered the library after the long party with the older people. He wasn't sure how well he had succeeded, but at least the others had seen him as an equal, not a child that should stay silent and who should be brought out only to be presented to others. They had managed to decide on a general outline of what should be done: first they would try to convince other lords and ladies that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were a threat that was both serious but also one that could be defeated, if only the Wizengamot took decisive action against them. Fudge's incompetence was also agreed on, at least after Harry recounted his experiences in the graveyard the previous year and Fudges initial reactions to it despite the death of a student. Amelia Bones telling her story of rebuffed demands for increased funding of the Auror Corps confirmed the suspicions that Fudge hadn't done anything despite what the Prophet had said earlier.

Augusta had comforted Harry in private after the other guests had either left or retired to the smoking room that the meeting had really been a productive one, and that the old lords simply were slower to decide on things than teenagers. Harry had groaned at the implication that upcoming ones might be even more wearisome than this one had been, and thanked whatever deities existed that Augusta and Amelia would be the ones to actually do most of the tedious talking while Harry was in school. Suddenly being only a figurehead didn't feel all that bad.

Harry sank on an armchair, and sighed loudly. The wine he had drank during the long dinner was making his head feel a little heavy, and he really wanted to simply fall asleep. But before he could actually do that Hermione came behind the stacks.

"Harry?" she asked. "Did the meeting go well?"

Harry sighed again. "I don't know. I thought it took awfully long time for them to come to understanding about even the simplest of things, but Augusta said it was completely normal and that they actually managed to decide a lot more than she had originally thought. But at least they agreed that something should be done about the Death Eaters, and that Fudge isn't the right someone to do it."

"Oh, Harry", Hermione said, smiling. "They are old and entrenched in their opinions. Didn't you know that the average age of a Wizengamot lord is over 70 years? It will take time for them to accept the fact that some things need to change, but they will come along. Augusta said that she had selected them for that purpose."

"I sure do hope so. If the ministry continues like they have thus far, there won't be a country left when I'm finally ready to fight Voldemort", Harry said, hiding his face in his hands.

Hermione was biting her lower lip. "Harry?", she asked, "I think I have found something that might let you claim your seat and monies during the summer."

Harry perked up at this.

"But I still need to double check and ask someone for confirmation", she continued quickly.

"What is it?"

"Well, there is this law from the 14th century I found earlier that says that an orphaned heir of a noble house can claim his seat before the customary age of majority after his master has declared him to be 'an able Wizard'. Now, obviously you aren't anyone's apprentice, so it doesn't work quite as is, but I found that when the Ordinary Wizarding Level Exams were started later, they actually replaced the older custom of declaration by master. So I'm thinking that you should be able to argue that it means you could take up your responsibilities as a lord after you complete your OWLs."

Harry jumped on Hermione and hugged her tightly. "Your brilliant, Hermione, have I said that before?"

Hermione smiled and hugged him back. "You might have. But I really need to check this up with someone before you get too excited. And you need to go to sleep. I think you are slightly drunk."

-o0oOo0o-


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

-o0oOo0o-

On the last day of the holidays Harry managed to slip out from the Longbottoms and go to the Grimmauld Place to see Sirius. His relationship with his godfather was one of the only secrets Harry had kept from Daphne and Neville, but the fact that after Fudge was removed from the office and Harry had taken his seat in Wizengamot he could push for Sirius' trial didn't slip by him unnoticed. Publicly having the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black in his corner, even if said house was only one man, was simply a bonus to having some justice for the only family Harry had left.

Then there was the issue of coming summer. Harry needed a place to stay, as staying at the Dursleys were definitely out of question. Grimmauld place wasn't much better option, as there Harry would be continuously under the watchful eye of the Order of the Phoenix, and especially Molly Weasley and Dumbledore. If Harry was going to fight this war, he needed privacy and freedom, neither of which were available at the headquarters.

"Sirius!", Harry called when he arrived to the dark foyer of the house with shrunken Charlus in his pocket. There was commotion from the upstairs, and then Harry heard his godfather yelling at the surly house elf before replying to Harry's call.

"I'm upstairs, in the library. Wait just a moment 'till I have these books under control."

Harry went up to see what was the problem and saw Sirius trying to tame a group of books that were trying to tear each other apart.

"What's going on?", he asked.

"Oh, hi, Harry. I was trying to do inventory of the library here, but the books seem to have other ideas. And the wretched elf doesn't help either, it's just wandering around doing nothing."

Harry watched as Sirius banished few of the books to the wall with a swish of his wand, and conjured some ropes around others. A few moments later the battle was over, and the older man was able to levitate the aggressive tomes to boxes marked as "dangerous" and spell them shut.

"The Order hopes to find some clues to what the Death Eaters might be doing from these books", Sirius explained. "This is pretty much the best Dark Arts collection in the world."

"Good to see they are at least doing something."

"Well, yeah. Actually this was my idea, I'm getting pretty tired to just sit around here without anything useful to do."

"Oh. Well, if everything works as planned, I'll see you freed of all charges first thing in the summer. It seems that the old men might actually start seeing things my way, and Hermione found a law that should get me my seat after the OWLs. With Fudge out of office it should be a breeze to get that ridiculous 'kiss on sight' order revoked."

"Way to go, kiddo! I told you she would do it! And think about what kind of pranks you can pull off as a Lord of Wizengamot!"

"Don't forget you'll be one, too, after we get your name cleared."

"Oh, you're right. I'll have to check some of the more outrageous ones we had planned, if my new status will allow me to actually get out with them."

"It's good to see you're enthusiastic, but you'll need to be very careful with it", Harry warned Sirius. "We really can't afford to lose any support because you are a public menace. But I'll promise I'll help you with them after the war is over."

"Damn, that's true. Well I'll check it anyway. I'm sure I could come up with something I could do to Fudge without getting caught."

"As long as you don't get caught."

"Hey, you'll talking to a Marauder, pup. And I've been practising not getting caught for almost three years now."

"Right. I also wanted to talk about where I'm going to stay during the summer. I'm not going back to Dursleys, and I'd rather not stay here either. I'll need privacy, and I'm not sure either Molly or Dumbledore will really appreciate what I'll be doing."

Sirius thought about that for a while. "There's always the Potter Estate. I'm not sure in what condition it is, but I liked it when I stayed there couple of summers with your father. But you should probably ask Charlus if he knows more about the Potter properties."

Harry hit himself in the head. "I knew I was forgetting something", he said, drawing the portrait out of his pocket and enlarging it. "Hi, Charlus, did you hear anything we talked about?"

"Oh yes I did", the portrait said, readjusting his surroundings from travelling. "And I must say I wish I was alive to see what you two manage to do in the Wizengamot. But on the other hand, it's probably safer to be already dead..."

Harry grinned. "You're probably right. But I really wanted to ask about the Potter Estate. I have no idea where it is or what's it like."

"Hmm... I'm not sure the Estate is your best bet for summer accommodation. I remember James talking about setting the wards to full lock-down, that means it'll take up to weeks before you can get inside, and you'll need outside help to reset the wards. And if I understood your situation correctly, that's not something you'd want to do."

Harry was crestfallen. He had really wanted to see the home his father had spent his childhood, as well as learn more about the history of his family.

"But there's another option you might want to consider", Charlus continued. "I bought a summer home in the fifties about thirty miles west from down-town London. I used it to entertain muggle guests that I couldn't for obvious reasons invite to the Estate. It's not huge, but no one knows where it is and the wards are state of the art. Not very powerful as there's not enough magic around to support heavy wards, but very clever. I brought a team of warders from the States to do them. The effect is kind of like fidelius, but not quite; they obliviate the location of the house from everyone leaving if you are not keyed to the wards. So it's easy to bring guests, even muggles, but you can't have too many people keyed in or the wards become rapidly worthless. The only downside I see is that the house doesn't have floo, so you'll need to learn to apparate or to create portkeys. Or travel muggle, I guess."

"But I thought portkeys were restricted by the ministry?", Harry wondered.

"Ah, but that's one of the perks of being noble. Can't have the ministry restrict us too much, now can we?", Charlus explained with a wink.

Before Harry had to leave back to the Longbottoms he talked for a while with Sirius and Charlus, and they agreed that Sirius would go visit the house and see if it was in condition for Harry, and maybe Sirius, too, to stay for the summer.

- O -

The first morning back in school Harry, Hermione and Neville came down to breakfast among the first of Gryffindors. The future was still troubling Harry. Would his efforts be enough? Would they be able to actually change anything, or would the Wizengamot just laugh at them, and continue on the road marked by Fudge and Lucius Malfoy? Harry wasn't sure what he would do if it all fell apart. Maybe he could simply go away, and hide somewhere in South America while the British wizards tore their world apart. Sirius had said that the Blacks had some hideaway there...

Harry sat down near the middle of the Gryffindor table and looked around. Something in the head table caught his attention.

"Hey, where do you think Umbridge is?", he asked Hermione and Neville. "We have defence first thing in the morning, and she's usually always in the great hall during meal time, watching over everyone like a hawk."

Both Hermione and Neville turned to look, and confirmed Umbridge's lack of presence themselves.

"I don't know. Maybe she has to prepare for the class or something?", guessed Hermione.

"Not bloody likely", Harry snorted. "It's not like she even teaches anything. We just read the books during that class, and she is just sitting behind her desk, smiling that creepy smile of her."

"Language, Harry", Hermione admonished her friend. "But you're right, she shouldn't need to do anything before classes."

"Well, I guess we'll know when the class starts", said Neville, helping himself to some scrambled eggs that had appeared near where they were sitting.

The answer, however, came before that in form of a flock of owls carrying the Daily Prophet. Hermione paid for her paper and opened it, only to be greeted with a picture of a house with the Dark Mark above it.

_HOGWARTS PROFESSOR, SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY DELORES UMBRIDGE KILLED_

_Minister Fudge's personal Senior Undersecretary Delores Umbridge was found dead in her home where she had been spending the Easter holiday from Hogwarts, where she has been teaching Defence Against Dark Arts. Umbridge's terribly mutilated corpse was found yesterday evening when a passer by noticed the Dark Mark floating over her home. The wounds on her body indicated that she might have been mauled to death by a werewolf. Sources close to the Minister say that the current hypothesis for the reason of the attack point towards this attack being a retaliation for Umbridge's heroic capture of her former colleague in Hogwarts teaching staff, potions master Severus Snape. _

_We at the Daily Prophet offer our condolences to all friends and family of the deceased, and warn that the pictures shown on the inside pages may not be suitable for younger audiences or those of weak heart._

_read more: Search for the victims of Imperius curse continues, p. 4_

Harry read the front page over Hermione's shoulder with mixed feelings. On one hand it meant that Voldemort had started to really act, and that more people were going to die before he and his allies managed to even try to convince the Wizengamot to actually do something. On the other hand, Voldemort couldn't have picked better target for his first strike. He just wondered why Umbridge. From what Harry had seen of her, she seemed the perfect toady for Voldemort's ranks, and her hatred against muggleborns and "half-breeds" certainly fitted well with Voldemort's ideology.

Harry looked around to see what kind of other reactions the article had caused in the student population. Soon enough his eyes caught a smug looking Draco showing the paper to his followers. 'Right', Harry thought. 'Malfoy loses his protector, someone has to pay. And daddy delivers. Predictable'. The irony of it all didn't escape Harry; a couple of careful nudges here and there, and the opposition was tearing itself apart.

Hermione frowned at Harry's amused look, and he quickly schooled his face to normal, indicating with a small shake that his amusement wasn't about Umbridge's demise. At least not completely.

"It seems we have a free period first thing in the morning, then", said Neville, oblivious to the silent conversation the two were having right next to him.

- O -

Absence of two teachers meant that there was massive amounts of free time available. But that didn't mean there was time for being lazy, as Hermione had been adamant on forcing her two friends to study harder than either of them could have believed, and the revision schedules she had whipped up were brutal. But it was effective: Hermione would have the theory memorized first while Harry was usually the fastest to get the practical part right, or was at least able to do intuitive leaps on how to best do the practice. And Neville asked all the obvious questions that might have otherwise been overlooked.

Other unexpected result from the death of Umbridge came when the current Gryffindor Quidditch captain Angelina Johnson entered the room and came to their table as soon as she noticed Harry, clearly enthusiastic about something.

"Harry! I've been looking for you, I managed to get Umbridge's quidditch ban lifted and you're back in the team! I already talked to Fred and George. McGonagall is currently trying to break the enchantments that keep your broom on the wall of the defence office, but it shouldn't take too long."

Harry was stunned. He had already felt the whole quidditch season was over for his part, and hadn't even entertained the possibility of getting back in the air before earlies the next year. He had, of course, missed his Firebolt and being able to soar through the skies without having to worry about anything, but had thought that it would need to wait until Fudge was out of office.

But now that the opportunity came earlier, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to seize it. There was so much other things going on, that he didn't really have time to spend practising Quidditch. He had the OWLs to prepare for (especially as his plans for the summer and the next year depended on him succeeding in them), he had etiquette lessons with Daphne to try and teach him how to behave like a proper Lord, and without any kind of Defence instructor the DA was going to grow out of control.

"Umm, I'm not sure if I have time for the practice, Angelina. There's the DA, and then there's the exams coming..."

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course you'll play. And it's not like you need that much practice. Please, Harry! You're part of the team I wanted to lead when I was made the captain, don't let me down now! It's my last game in Hogwarts, and there's bound to be scouts watching. This is my big chance of getting to the league, don't go ruining it for me!"

Harry looked at Hermione, who was smiling encouragingly, and sighed. "OK, I'll play. But I really don't have time to practice like we did with Wood."

Angelina laughed. "Don't worry, no one's as fanatic as Wood. And thank you so much, this means so much to me!" She then proceeded to drag Harry up on his feet and gave him a tight hug and a kiss on his cheek, before she left leaving a confused Harry and laughing Neville and Hermione behind.

- O -

The following weeks sped by in a blur of studying, teaching the DA, sparring with Neville in the room of requirement, and Quidditch practice. Even with actual course load lower than ever before Harry felt like he hadn't work as hard in his life. And that said something, as the Dursleys had worked him like a house elf.

None the less he was happy, as everything he did seemed to finally have a purpose. The OWLs weren't merely a set of tests any more, they were gateway to freedom he hadn't felt before. The DA and the sparring sessions weren't just studying, they were preparing for a war that Harry was prophesied to end. And when he had mounted his Firebolt for the first time after the long ban, he remembered again why he loved flying so much.

Finally the weekend of the Gryffindor - Ravenclaw game came, and the team was getting ready in the changing room.

"OK, guys", Angelina started her pep talk. "This is the last game here in Hogwarts for four of us. This is now fifth year our team has been more or less the same, even if there weren't games last year. We know each other, we have experience, we have skill. And even if all of us haven't had regular practice for the whole year, we are still damn near the best team Hogwarts has ever seen. With two wins we already have tight hold of the cup, but that doesn't mean we can take it easy. We will crush the Claws so badly they won't know what hit them! And Potter, your job is to keep their seeker away from the snitch. I want us to score at least twenty goals before you catch it, okay?"

Harry nodded in agreement, and the team prepared to enter the pitch. Lee Jordan had already announced the Ravenclaw team, and the audience was roaring in anticipation. Adrenaline was pumping in Harry's veins; this was living, this was something worth fighting for. At Angelina's mark the Gryffindor team mounted their brooms and flew out, as Lee continued his announcement.

"...And here comes the Gryffindor team! Chasers Johnson, Spinnet and Bell; back as beaters Fred and George Weasley, guarding the hoops is Ron Weasley, and as seeker our very own Harry Potter!"

Harry flew around the cheering stadium, and spotted Hermione at the Gryffindor stands and Daphne sitting with her friend Tracey with the Slytherins. Both of them smiled at him, and while Daphne kept her mostly indifferent mask Hermione was clearly happy to see Harry back in the air.

The match itself was absolutely brilliant for Harry. His Firebolt dominated the field, allowing him to literally fly circles around the other players. He was playing with a lot more aggressive and involved style breaking the Ravenclaw attack formations and intercepting their passes. And as Fred and George were beating the bludgers with vengeance, the less experienced Ravenclaw team was utterly helpless in front of the lions.

"And Johnson scores another ten points to Gryffindor!", announced Lee. "The Flying Foxes show again why the Gryffindor team has been undefeated this season. As this is the last match in Hogwarts for both Johnson and Spinnet, they are certainly trying to show their best play for the scouts that I think I can see talking to each other in the staff stands. And look at Potter fly! I swear, he couldn't be more natural in the air even if he had wings! He intercepts another pass by Ravenclaw, passes to Bell, passes to Spinnet and its 220-30, Gryffindor. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, 190 point lead for the Lions. Come on Potter, go catch that snitch so we can start celebrating our victory!"

And as if by magic, there Harry caught the glimpse of gold down by the Gryffindor hoops. He steered his broom to a steep dive, gathering speed and caught the snitch before Cho managed to get even close. The whole stadium erupted in cheer as Harry raised his hand shoving the little golden ball to everyone. Soon he was tackled by the others, and the tangled mess of celebrating players lowered itself to the ground in less than orderly fashion.

It was certainly good to be Harry Potter as Johnson handed him the Quidditch trophy, and for the second time Harry raised it up for the cheering Gryffindor house.

- O -

The next day Harry was again sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione and Neville, studying. They had scheduled a meeting with Daphne later on the same evening, and were doing some reviewing on their homework while they were waiting for right time. Harry was concentrating on the theory behind animation charms, when Ron appeared standing next their table and tried to get his attention.

"Err... Harry?", he said. "Could we talk?"

Harry lifted his eyes from the book and looked at the waiting redhead.

"Sure. What did you want to talk about?"

"Umm... I was thinking...", Ron stammered, until he gathered his courage and blurted it all out in on breath; "I've been a lousy friend. I first realized that during the Easter, when I was here at the castle, alone. Ginny was gossiping with some girls and Fred and George were doing their experiments, and I had no one to play chess or cards with. Sure I was angry when you didn't party with us after the previous game, but then I thought that you probably had a good reason for it; you always have. And I should have asked what the reason was instead of just snapping at you. Err... what I'm really trying to say is that I'm sorry I've been ignoring you and can we be friends again?"

Harry looked at Ron, considering the peace offering.

"Ron, I was really down when you were avoiding me during the Christmas. I mean, I had a lot going on, and still have, and you avoiding me didn't really help at all. I felt just like I did after the tournament thing, when you didn't believe me. And now I've been hanging with Neville and other people, and I'm doing more work with school, too. And I'm not going to stop doing that if we are friends again.

"And I'm still hurt you did that, you know. You broke my trust. I'm not sure we can ever go back where we were. But you were my best friend for years, so I'm giving you a change. We can be friends, but not just best friends any more."

Ron gulped. He had really hoped that things could have been like they were before, but apparently it wasn't possible. At least not immediately.

"Right", he said. "But that's better than nothing, right?"

"Yes it is", Harry said standing up. "It's good to have you back, mate!", he continued, slapping Ron on the shoulder.

"So, what were you doing tonight? Fancy a game of chess?"

Harry glanced at the clock and shot a questioning look at Hermione. She shrugged almost invisibly and gave him a small nod of approval.

"Well, we were just wrapping up our work and then we were preparing to go to a meeting in the Room of Requirement. We have friends from other houses too, you see. Fancy come along?"

Ron looked a bit alarmed at the mentioning of other houses, but decided it was better to not start anything at this point of their still fragile friendship. "Okay, that's cool. Ravenclaws could be useful, I guess. They are kind of like Hermione. It should make homework real easy if you have a couple of 'Claws to help you. And Cho's not bad looking, either. Nor is Padma, now that I think about it."

Harry felt an impending doom coming, but didn't correct Ron's assumption of Daphne's house. Or the fact that he and Cho hadn't really talked to each other since the first DA meeting after the Christmas, when Harry had made it clear that he really wasn't up to a serious relationship at the moment. There simply was too much going on for Harry to be able to give a girl the attention she deserved.

"Right."

The walk to the Room of Requirement went by silently, and there weren't many people walking around at these parts of the castle at this time. When they arrived to the room, Harry stopped and faced Ron.

"You know, the people inside are my friends. And you better treat them as such, understood?"

Ron was a bit taken back by Harry's tone, but nodded eagerly. "Of course, mate. It's not like I've been that great friend lately that I could really told you who you can hang around with."

"That's right", Harry answered and opened the door, and let the others in first.

Daphne was waiting for them sitting with her back towards the door. As Harry entered and closed the door, she stood up and turned to face the Gryffindors.

Ron was first to open his mouth.

"Harry! What is she doing in here? Who has showed the Slytherins where our meeting room is?"

"Ron, she is Daphne Greengrass, and she's my friend. I showed her the Room."

"But Harry! She is Slytherin! You can't be friends with Slytherins! What has she done to you? Is it potions? Or is she using the Imperius curse?"

Daphne raised her eyebrow at the last suggestion.

"Ron! I can shrug off even Voldemort's imperius, remember? Will you stop insulting my friends?"

"But Harry, she is Slytherin! You can't trust them, she is probably just using you for her own ends!"

"As a matter of fact, she is. And I know it, and I'm fine with it. Now drop it!"

"No way! Hermione, how can you accept this? And Neville? Can't you see? She is probably just waiting to hand you to Voldemort. Or spying for Malfoy!"

Harry sat down heavily and hid his face in his hands. This was not going the way he had hoped. He had already managed to forget just how tactless Ron could be. Neville was looking around nervously, while Hermione was glaring at Ron angrily.

"For your information, Weasley", Daphne said with a voice that could have frozen the Black Lake during summer, "I would never do anything for the idiot Malfoy. And from what I have seen and heard right now, you are a lot more like him than you will probably ever understand. I really don't understand what Harry sees in you, and personally I think he could do a lot better than you."

"You hear that!" Ron shouted. "She is trying to turn Harry against us! We need to tell Dumbledore, he can make things right again."

Harry looked at Hermione, who understood the silent plea and took her wand out.

"Hermione?", Ron asked, finally noticing the angry look on her face.

"I really wish I could say I'm sorry, Ron", she said frostily, lifting her wand. "But I'm not. Pertificus totalus!"

Ron fell down backwards, his rigid body thumping loudly on the floor, where a thin mattress materialized to somewhat soften up the impact. Daphne walked to him, taking her wand out too.

"It's for your own good", Neville commented, as Ron's eyes widened the little they could under the body bind.

Daphne aimed her wand at the redhead, and said one word.

"Obliviate."

- O -

Harry was feeling torn. On one hand, the loss of Ron's friendship was hurting like hell, as was the fact that it had actually been Harry who had made the final decision to choose between Daphne and Ron. On the other, Harry had long ago accepted the fact and this final conclusion was actually quite freeing, as he didn't have to wonder what might happen any more. He now knew. Ron had been sent back with his memory modified, telling him that Harry had accepted his apology but couldn't trust him any more and didn't have time for games. That should keep the redhead at moderate distance, and not raise any suspicions.

The meeting continued from there pretty much as it was supposed to. Harry told the others about a letter Amelia Bones had sent him that confirmed Hermione's reasoning for the OWL's, and gave some inside information about the situation on the ministry. In short, Fudge still didn't give DMLE the money Amelia wanted, and had gotten increasingly paranoid after the death of Umbridge. Neville had heard from Augusta that the older Lords were starting to agree more on things, and Daphne informed that both her father and Paul Davis would most probably get their places in the Wizengamot before summer. They had spent quite a lot on the campaigning, and Harry agreed that he would pay at least part of it when he would finally get access to his money.

- O -

Eventually the OWL-exams were there. Having done huge amount of reviewing Harry was actually feeling rather positive about the exams; even Hermione hadn't found too much to correct on his answers when they were studying with Neville. And Daphne had managed to pull some stings and get her hands on the official grading guidelines for the exams, so Harry and his friends had a good idea what was waiting for them and what kind of answers the examiners were expecting.

Finally, after two weeks of writing and casting and reading there was only one exam left: History of Magic. That was actually the one Harry felt least confident with, as professor Binns didn't talk about much more than goblins and their rebellions. But on the other hand, Harry had learn a lot of history talking with Charlus, as well as during his sessions with Daphne.

Long days of studying and trying to write out the learned information as coherent answers had left Harry mentally exhausted, but bravely he trudged through the questions about formation of ICW and international Statute of Secrecy, as well as details of the Giant wars of 16th century. Harry was finalizing the first draft for his answer for the second to last question when a searing pain shot through his scar.

Through the pain Harry saw a group Death Eaters ganging around a crumbled form in what he recognized as the Hall of Prophecies.

"You thought your pitiful order could guard this place, didn't you?", one of the Death Eaters said. "I see you did. But you were wrong. Crucio!"

The crumbled form screamed in pain, and rolled over. Harry recognised the face and the black hair of his godfather, just before a strong shake on his shoulder woke him up from the vision with a gasp.

"Are you okay, dear?", asked a soft female voice, that belonged to one of the examiners. "What happened?"

Harry scrambled on his feet, bewildered. "It's Sirius!", he shouted, and bolted out of the Great Hall running towards the Gryffindor tower. He was already in the stairs when he barely hear the examiner's call after him.

"I understand it's serious, but what is it about?"

- O -

Harry was in his dorm room rummaging through his trunk when Hermione caught up with him.

"What's going on, Harry?", she asked. "Did you have another vision?"

"Yes", Harry answered, not stopping his search for the map of London he knew he had somewhere in his trunk. "The Death Eaters have Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, and they are torturing him. I have to go help him!"

Hermione looked around, and saw Harry's invisibility cloak in his bed, and his broom resting against the wall next to the window.

"And this is your plan? Fly to London, alone, and fight your way in and out through the Death Eaters?"

Harry turned to look at Hermione.

"I mean, have you even considered getting back-up? Are you sure broom is the fasted way there?", she continued. "Or have you even tried to call Sirius and check if he really is there? You know, this is one of the reasons you were studying occlumency, Dumbledore believed Voldemort might try to influence you through your link."

Harry looked a bit sheepish, but turned to look for the mirror. "Sirius!", he called. After a while went past without answer, he called again. "Sirius, god damn it, answer me!"

"Oh, sorry pup, I was a bit busy", answered Sirius who appeared to the mirror. "I've been moving some things to Charlus' summer house. I even got my bike back from Hagrid. Is something wrong?"

"Thank Merlin, Sirius, are you okay?" Harry said with a deep sigh, and sank on his bed.

"Sure, why? What is going on? You look like hell, kiddo."

"Ah, I got another vision, like the one before Christmas. I thought the Death Eaters had you trapped in the Department of Mysteries, and were torturing you. I was ready to rush in to London to help you before Hermione told me to try and contact you first."

Sirius looked serious. "Smart girl, Hermione. You think that might have been what Voldemort wanted? I mean, to get you to mount a rescue mission to the ministry?"

"Might be. It was one of the reasons I was studying occlumency, you know. Preventing Voldemort from feeding me false information. And in the vision you were in the Hall of Prophecies, so the prophecy might also be one of Voldemort's objectives. They have fiendish protections, and only I or him could have taken it out from the shelf."

"Right, that's probably it, then. I'll alert the order, and we go check if there's something going on there. You stay right where you are. Understood?"

"And you stay where you are. I'll have you freed during the summer, and that's not going to happen if you get yourself killed or arrested in the ministry. I don't want to lose you, Sirius."

"Okay, pup. Will do."

- O -

After dinner the same day Harry was confronted by angry Greengrass when he was walking back towards the Gryffindor tower. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a broom cupboard and cast a silencing charm on the door to ward off any possible eavesdroppers.

"So, Potter, all this time you have had a godfather, who is the lord of one of the Most Ancient houses, who everyone believes is a mass murderer and Voldemort's second in command, but in fact is innocent and has been helping you for two years now? And you didn't tell me? Why?"

"I... I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to tell you. I mean, you said it yourself: everyone believes he's a mass murderer, and, well, the minister didn't believe when I said he was innocent, so..."

"Listen, Potter. I'm on your side on this. If you tell me something, I will most probably believe you. And in no case will I run to the ministry and tell them what's going on. I don't like them one bit more than you do. But if you want this partnership to work, I need to know. How can I help you if I don't know what you need help with?"

"I'm sorry, Daphne, I should have told you", Harry allowed. "But it's not like I haven't done anything about it. I do plan to bring him up when I take my position in the Wizengamot."

Daphne looked at Harry, weighting his words. "Fine. Maybe you're not completely clueless, after all. But in the future, I want you to tell me everything, understood?"

"I will", Harry said. "And thank you. For everything. You have been great help, I really don't where I would be without you."

"You're welcome, I guess", Daphne answered. "And you're not so bad, I think you could have done just fine by yourself. I wouldn't have offered my help for a complete loser, after all", she added with a smirk.

Daphne left the closet, leaving Harry behind and startling a Gryffindor second year who had been walking by. Harry left soon after, and went to call Sirius for latest developments and any news for what happened in the ministry.

- O -

The morning paper told the outcome of the nights excitement.

_HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED ATTACKS THE MINISTRY_

_Yesterday evening brought an surprise to all of us, as a battle between Death Eaters, Aurors and a group of civilians broke out in the depths of the Ministry of Magic. Group of twelve Death Eaters had managed to break in to the Department of Mysteries, where they were later confronted by the opposing force. A running battle through the ministry building caused plenty of property damage, and one Auror was killed. Other two and one of the civilians are currently at St Mungo's being healed from the wounds the suffered. _

_The Battle ended when minister Fudge himself with his Auror guard arrived to the Ministry Atrium, where headmaster Albus Dumbledore was engaged in a duel with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. Soon after the arrival of reinforcements You-Know-Who fled the battle taking injured Bellatrix Lestrange and suspected imperius victim Lucius Malfoy with him._

_The enemy lost ten people, either dead or captured._

_read more:  
>Illustrated diagram of the battle through the ministry, p. 4<br>Death Eaters captured or killed, p. 5_

-x-

_AMELIA BONES SACKED, SCRIMGEOUR NEW DIRECTOR OF DMLE_

_After the attack to the Ministry of Magic the Minister Cornelius Fudge replaced Amelia Bones as the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Fudge told the press that the reason for this restructuring was the the weak performance of the department. "If twelve Death Eaters manage to break in to the Department of Mysteries, there has to be something wrong with the department. I have full confidence in Rufus' [Scrimgeour] abilities to get the department in right track"._

_Amelia Bones has reportedly been asking more funding for the DMLE repeatedly over the years. This suggests that the reason for her failure might have been poor allocation of the department funds._

"I can't believe they're still spewing that 'imperius' crap. Or that Fudge blames Amelia for his own mistakes", Harry complained after reading the front page.

"Oh, well, that was pretty much expected from the moment Fudge finally admitted Voldemort's back", Hermione said, turning the page to read the other articles. "You said it yourself: there's no way Fudge is going to take any responsibility about anything he can pour down to others."

"Yeah, but still. Every day the idiot is the minister is one day too much. He should have had the grace to step down himself. You remember what Amelia said: the man's afraid of his own shadow, and is tying huge portions of DMLE's resources to his personal protection. That kind of man should have nothing to do with leading a nation in times of war."

Hermione sighed. "You're right, of course. Hopefully he won't do so much longer. If things go as planned, there will be a new minister in three weeks time."

"True." Harry answered. "That day can't come too quickly".

- O -

After lunch Harry was summoned to talk with Dumblerore. Harry wasn't too happy about meeting the Headmaster, but Hermione was adamant that Harry should give him a chance, even if his actions didn't necessary warrant one. Thus Harry was riding up the spiral staircase up to the Headmasters office.

"Come in, Harry", called Dumbledore when he arrived to the door.

Harry entered the room and sat down on a chair opposing the headmasters desk.

"Lemon drop?", Dumbledore asked.

"No thank you."

"As you probably guessed, I asked you here to talk about what happened yesterday", Dumbledore started, and Harry merely nodded in response.

"I must say that your actions were commendable. You managed to see through Voldemort's lies, and alerted the Order so we were able to turn a trap into an ambush. Despite unfortunate loss of life, yesterday was a victory for us."

Harry didn't quite agree with the last point. Amelia was sacked, and Fudge probably still wouldn't do what was necessary. But hopefully Fudge's term would come to an end soon enough.

Dumbledore looked at the silent boy in front of him and sighed inaudibly. So much pain, so much hurt! Hopefully Harry wouldn't follow the path laid out by Riddle, because the world wouldn't survive that.

"I hope you now see the importance of learning occlumency", Dumbledore continued. "I wish you to continue practising during summer. I will come get you from the Privet Drive at some point, I think I might need your help in recruiting a new Potions Master for the next year."

Harry managed to keep his face straight, but inwardly he was seething. The nerve of the old man! He would just keep him imprisoned at the Dursleys, only coming to get him when it would benefit the man himself.

"Is that all, Headmaster? Nothing else you need to tell me?", Harry asked.

"That is all. Oh, and try not to distance yourself from your friends too much. They are the greatest treasure there is, after all."

"I shall, Headmaster", Harry said, standing up. "Good bye."

Harry left the office and walked towards the Gryffindor tower. The old man still didn't see Harry as an adult, and still wished to keep him in the dark. Didn't he want Harry to succeed in his destiny? Why it was it so damn important for the man to hoard all the information for himself, even if the war would go a lot smoother if he shared more openly?

Still, Harry couldn't feel any malevolence in the actions of the Headmaster. Perhaps he was just an old man, with his own flaws. He remembered what Charlus had said; Dumbledore wasn't a leader, he was forced to be a leader by the others who believed in him. In a way Harry felt pity for Dumbledore. It couldn't be easy to carry the expectations of the world on your shoulders, and perhaps he just wanted to protect Harry from the same burden.

As Harry neared his tower, he felt a new headache starting to rise. 'Great. Just what I needed.'

-o0oOo0o-


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Thanks for all the reviews and criticism. Encouragement keeps the writing satisfying and the more pointed opinions open new perspectives to ones mistakes. It's all too easy to get blinded by your own brilliance...

-o0oOo0o-

Chapter 8

-o0oOo0o-

The evening sky of late June was still quite light as two dark robed figures were walking in a debilitated London suburb. The large stone houses still held the memory of once proud neighbourhood, but at the moment the general feeling was one of despair and hopelessness. If someone had happened to look at the two figures, their first guess would have been that they were ghosts haunting one of the neighbouring buildings, and they wouldn't have been that far from the truth.

"This is it, my Lord", one of the figures said in female voice. "I remember how I tortured my first muggle at that park right there. It was a Christmas present from my dear aunt. I remember the park was right by home."

"Good, Bella, you did well", answered the bigger figure. "I can sense the magic at work here. The Blacks were always creative with their magic; it seems that they are using the life force of these muggles to power their wards. Quite imaginative, although the neighbours leave room for improvement."

There was a silence as both figures listened to the sounds of the night.

"It really is a shame that I must destroy the ancient home of a family like the Blacks, but then again both possible heirs have proven to be disappointments. And to think that the home of once proud family now houses bloodtraitors, mudbloods and thieves... Yes, it's better off in ashes."

The figure that had been called Bella didn't comment anything, as the other one begun a terrible sounding chant. Fire begun to circle around the two illuminating the dishevelled black hair and crazed eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange under her black hood as well as the nose-less face of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Animals of every type begun to form in the fire, as the chant continued. Soon the buildings around were starting to catch fire too, as the magical flames continued to grow.

"Yes, it is a pity", Voldemort said, when his chant had been completed and the cursed fire was raging all around them. "So much history. So much knowledge destroyed forever. But it had to be done, no one shall stand up against me without being punished."

Thick black smoke was rising all around the Grimmauld place as the two figures disappeared with quiet pops that were drowned in the roar of the all consuming fire.

No one was around to hear the high pitched scream coming from seemingly nowhere, as fire-fighters tried futilely to extinguish the Fiendfyre that had engulfed the whole neighbourhood in a blazing inferno.

- O -

Harry woke up early in the next morning, still suffering from the lingering headache from previous day. He took a shower, dressed up and went down to the common room to wait for his friends to wake up. Harry briefly considered going back to the dorm to get a book he could read, but remembered soon that he didn't have anything to study any more before the summer.

Harry thought back to previous years and their ends. Usually he had been staying at the hospital wing at this point, or feeling miserable for spending yet another summer at the Dursleys. It was a strange feeling; for the first time in his life Harry was actually anxious for the vacation to start.

Eventually Neville and Hermione came down, and the three walked to the Great hall for breakfast.

"You know," Neville started, "Amelia getting sacked might actually be a good thing. I mean, we still haven't found a good candidate for a new minister, and Amelia was adamant that she wouldn't leave her position as the head of DMLE. Now that she's free she might be more willing to take the position."

"You're right. I'll contact her as soon as I can", Harry replied, buttering his toast while Hermione was paying for her issue of the Prophet. Once again there was a huge headline in the front page.

_VOLDEMORT RETALIATES, BURNS DOWN MUGGLE NEIGHBOURHOOD  
>DMLE shows great efficiency under new leadership, no agents killed fighting the fire<em>

"I can't believe this!", exclaimed Hermione after she finished reading the front page. "Voldemort burns down a whole neighbourhood, and all the Prophet writes is that no wizards were killed. What about all the muggles? There had to be tens if not hundreds of dead muggles if Voldemort really used Fiendfyre in his attack. Tell me again why we fight for the Wizarding World, Harry?"

Harry finished the article himself. He was briefly wondering why the neighbourhood sounded somewhat familiar, but banished that thought out of his mind to address Hermione.

"I'm not sure I'm fighting for the Wizarding World, Hermione. I'm mostly fighting for myself. Voldemort won't leave me and my friends alone, so I can't leave him alone. And really, what do you believe would happen to the muggles if we stopped fighting him?"

Hermione sighed. "I know. Sometimes it's just so frustrating to see how ignorant the wizards are about all things muggle. The muggles don't even count as people in their eyes."

"Yeah. But we can work on that after we take care of Voldemort. That's what Charlus said, too: we can't try to do everything at once, that would only put us in the margin and no one would be willing to help us. If we focus on Voldemort and the Death Eaters, we will have a lot more allies than if we tried to force through new rights for muggles and muggleborn at the same time."

The discussion was interrupted by a regal looking dark grey owl that landed in front of Harry. Harry took a letter form the owl and gave the bird a piece of bacon from his plate, before turning the letter over and seeing the Gringotts seal in it.

"I wonder what the goblins want with me now. I haven't even informed them about the plan to get full control of my finances yet, and even if I had, Madam Marchbanks said it would take at least a week before I got the results from my OWLs, even with the deal we made with her."

"Well, open the letter and see for yourself. I'm sure it will explain everything."

Harry followed Hermione's suggestion and opened the letter. Hermione and Neville watched intently as Harry turned gradually paler while he was reading the short letter over and over again. Finally he put the letter down on the table, stood up, and turned to leave.

"I... I need to be alone", he said, before departing from the hall, leaving Neville and Hermione wondering what the letter had said. Hermione picked up the letter and started to read.

_Honoured account holder Mr. Harry James Potter_

_It is my duty to inform you that the last will and testament of one Sirius Orion Black has been activated as of yesterday evening. As the primary beneficiary and heir, your presence at the Gringotts bank is required at your earliest convenience._

_Yours,  
>Senior Account Manager Silvertooth<em>

_May your gold multiply and your enemies' blood flow freely_

Hermione was quick to connect the dots. "Oh my God. It wasn't just any neighbourhood Voldemort burned down, he attacked the Headquarters. And Sirius was there, and now he's dead. We need to find Harry before he does anything rash!"

- O -

Many hours later, long after the lunch, it was actually Daphne who finally found Harry sitting in the highest point of the stands around the Quidditch pitch, his head down and his Firebolt laying at his foot. Hermione and Neville had conscripted her to help in the search after they hadn't found Harry before lunch.

"Potter? Are you there?", she asked.

"Go away, I want to be alone."

"Fuck you, Potter!", Daphne screamed, frustrated from hours of searching and angered by Harry's dismissal. "You are not the only one who has stakes in this situation. I bet everything, and I mean literally everything on you winning. And then I learn it all hangs on your shoulders, that in the end it will have to be you against the Dark Lord, but still I keep on going, even if the odds look all the time worse. And now you think you can just roll over and cry waiting for death, just because something didn't go as you wanted? No way, mister! Now get your arse up from there and start making some progress!"

Harry looked up at Daphne, his eyes still red from crying. "All I ever wanted was to be normal. Is it really too much to ask?"

"Potter, you are not normal", Daphne said, and Harry flinched at the accusation he remembered having heard so many times from the Dursleys. "You have never been normal, and you never even could have been normal. Even if you weren't the Boy-Who-Lived, you would still be the Heir of Potters, and let me tell you, that's pretty much as far from 'normal' as you can get."

Daphne paused to think for a moment.

"Harry", she said, now with a softer voice. "You're not normal, you're better than that. That's what you are all about."

Harry sniffed loudly. Although it was early summer already, it wasn't too warm yet in Scotland, and sitting outside crying wasn't the best way to keep yourself warm.

"Now, I saw the letter you got from Gringotts. You might not know it, but when the goblins say 'at your earliest convenience', they mean now, not when it really is convenient for you", Daphne continued. "So stop wasting your energy at being sorry for yourself, and use it for something productive. From what I learned from Granger on Friday I understood that your godfather wouldn't have wanted you to wallow in self pity either, but to give them hell for what they did to him and to you. Sure you can mourn the dead, but you shouldn't let it control you. The stakes are too high to stop fighting before it's all done, you'll have time for mourning then."

"But what should I do? What can I do? Sirius was my plan for the summer, I don't even know where the house where I'm supposed to stay is."

"Well, Charlus is at the Longbottoms, right? You just ask him. Right now you should take care of the Gringotts business. You go request Dumbledore to let you use his floo; this is the kind of business he has to let you attend to. And I guess you might want to say a few words to the headmaster, too."

Anger flashed at Harry's eyes at the mention of the headmasters name, and a his brow furrowed into a determined scowl.

"Right. That's what I'll do, then", he said, climbing up on his feet. "Thanks again, Daphne. I really needed someone to tell me what to do."

"My pleasure."

- O -

A while later Harry arrived to the Headmasters office. The password from the day before was still good, and the Gargoyle stepped aside from the way of the advancing Gryffindor.

"Harry, my boy! I am very sorry for your loss, losing Sirius and the headquarters was a great loss for us all. But surely you didn't come here to just hear my condolences, what can I do for you?"

"I received a letter from Gringotts concerning Sirius' will. They want me there 'at earliest convenience', and I was made to understand it means now", Harry said, handing Dumbledore the letter and trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Ah, of course. Sirius was very fond of you, Harry. I should have known he would have left you most of his wealth. But I must advice you against going to Gringotts, Harry, you're simply not safe at the Diagon Alley."

"Safe?", snapped Harry, letting his anger flare. "Safe like Sirius was at Grimmauld Place? Safe like my parents were before they were killed? Safe like I have been almost every year here at Hogwarts? If that's your definition of 'safe', I'm willing to take my chances with dangerous. And how was Voldemort even able to find the headquarters? Do you have another traitor in your precious Order?"

Dumbledore seemed to deflate under Harry's barrage, and sighed deeply.

"No, I don't believe we have a traitor. My theory is that Voldemort found out that we were using the Black ancient home as our base, and someone, possibly Bellatrix, was able to remember the general location. That's why he had to destroy the whole neighbourhood, he couldn't target his attack more precisely."

"And how did he find out the headquarters was at the old Black home?"

Dumbledore seemed to age visibly from this question, and looked every bit the ancient man he was.

"Harry, you must understand that there was no malice meant -"

"How?"

"Well, Mundungus Fletcher was arrested last week selling silverware with the Black family crest at Knockturn Alley. That, combined with the fact that no Death Eater would have been able to remember where exactly the Black home was might have been enough to tip Voldemort to where we were hiding."

Harry stared at the old man, stunned. The same Fletcher that was supposed to be guarding him when the dementors attacked last summer had actually been stealing from Sirius, and had managed to blow their cower while doing so. And Dumbledore had invited the man to the Order?

"Harry, you must trust me -", Dumbledore started, before the silence had a change to get too awkward.

"Trust you?" Harry interrupted. "Trust you? Look where trust has gotten me. My parents trusted in Pettigrew, and they were betrayed. You trusted that my aunt and uncle would treat me well, and they robbed me my childhood. You trusted in Snape even tough he had already betrayed both sides and he made my life hell here at school. You trusted in Fletcher, and he not only abandoned his guard post last summer but decided it was okay to steal from Sirius, and that cost my Godfather's life. Tell me again, why should I trust you?"

"Harry, what do you mean with Professor Snape betraying both sides?"

"I know of the bloody prophecy!", Harry screamed. "I know that's why Voldemort killed my parents. I know what Snape's role was in that! I know what I must do, and I bloody well am going to do it! And I know you know of it, and haven't seen it fit to tell me about it. I actually hoped you would have told me about the prophecy yesterday, but no! You just have to keep everything to yourself! And that's one more reason I don't trust you. You keep vital information from me, time after time."

"I only hoped to spare your childhood. I did what I thought was the best for you."

"My childhood?", Harry asked, not believing what he was hearing. "I haven't been a child since I was left at the Dursleys. They treated me like a slave for as long as I can remember. When I arrived here in Hogwarts, I've been regarded either as a future Dark Lord, or some kind of hero in shining armour who is supposed to save us all. Or as deranged and dangerous liar. And besides, what gave you the right to decide what is the best for me? It's my life, and I have to live it. Shouldn't I have some say over it?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "You're right, of course. And I'm very sorry that I have failed you as badly as I have, Harry."

"And you should be. This is my life, and my war. And I'm going to live and fight it the way I see fit. What you should be asking yourself is if you are going to help me, ignore me, or do I have to fight you, too. Now, I think I must be going, I'll find my way back through Hogsmeade, thank you very much."

Harry walked to the fireplace and threw some floo powder into the flames. "Diagon Alley!" he shouted, before turning to face the Headmaster one last time as the green flames burned behind him. "Good bye, Headmaster. I'll see you at the Wizengamot."

Whit that Harry stepped through the flames, leaving one old man in his thoughts and regrets.

- O -

After Harry arrived to Gringotts, he was quickly escorted to a private office where both Axeheart and who Harry presumed was Silvertooth were waiting for him. After introductions Silvertooth went straight into business.

"Now, there are some complications in this will. You see, Mr. Black wrote this soon after you were born, and at that point he wasn't too wealthy, and was actually removed from his family by his mother. So the will is very brief, with you named as his heir and primary beneficiary, and small bequests going to misters James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Now, as both Mr. Potter and Mr. Pettigrew are dead, their shares will also go to you.

"The complications come from the fact that after he was incarcerated in Azkaban, his mother reinstated him to the Black family, and after her death he became the head of the family, and the Lord Black. As Lord Black, he controlled the whole Black fortune, and while it's monetary value isn't quite as big as the Potter one, it is still substantial. But it also means that he, and by extension you, cannot simply disregard other members of his family, in this case Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Malfoy and Lestrange? I don't want anything to do with those two. One is a Death Eater and another is as good as one. Isn't there anything I can do about it?"

"Well, no. But it's not like you have to give them too much, they are only cousins of the deceased, after all."

"Right. Leave them how much it is you must. I don't want to deal with them."

"It will be done. Now, you also inherited the title of Earl of Blackmoor from your Godfather. As you are already heir of a noble house, this doesn't really matter all that much, it's just one more title in your name after you finally come to age."

"I don't need to do anything because of it?"

"No. Legally, you could marry two women to have a lady for each title, but that's by no means required, and as far as I understand, it's frowned upon. Also if you happen to have more than one child, you can divide the titles between them however you want."

Harry was stunned. It's not like he had thought about marriage at all. And while having a family was Harry's deepest dream, being the father in one hadn't really crossed his mind.

"Moving on, here is the ledger on the Black accounts. As you can see, there's quite a bit of coin, and the rest is invested mainly in property. Most interesting ones are a couple of buildings in the Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. They do generate nice amount of profit, but compared to the Potter investments in the muggle world, it's actually rather meagre; the power of the Blacks was always more in politics than money. And then there's a storage vault, the contents or value of witch is unknown."

Harry was browsing through the ledger absent-mindedly. The money didn't really matter to him at all, he already had more than enough of it. The fact that all this was now his just made the fact that Sirius was really dead, burned to ashes in Voldemort's attack, more real. A lone tear worked it's way down his cheek as he thought about his godfather. He hadn't been able to enjoy his wealth either; he had been in prison, not even knowing of the change in his status. The only withdrawal was for the price of the Firebolt Sirius had bought for Harry on his third year.

Remembering Daphne's words about not letting the sorrow to control you Harry wiped the tears out of his eyes, and gave the ledger back to the goblin.

"Thank you, Silvertooth. Before I leave, I want you to know, that I have found an old law that will allow me to claim my status as a lord before my seventeenth birthday. I hope to have everything ready when the term ends, and I intend to make some waves when it does. And Axehearth, I would appreciate if you could schedule an auxiliary general meeting for the shareholders of the Daily Prophet. There will be changes in the leadership of the paper."

"I'll do that", the goblin said with a toothy grin. Apparently the goblin approved Harry's intentions. "Here's a small guide on what to expect in a meeting like that. There might be a few useful tips in it. I would love to see the Potter Account back at the top where it belongs. The Malfoy has become a bit too cocky lately."

Harry took the booklet, and thanked the goblin. "I'll see what I can do. I would love to see the Malfoys ruined, too."

Harry left the bank, and it was already dark when he finally fell down on his bed at the Gryffindor tower.

- O -

The last week before the holidays went by in quiet introspection and preparation by Harry's part. He spent hours just sitting by the lake, thinking what his life could have been had he just had a family of his own. He was also forced to admit, that he hadn't really known Sirius all that well; the fact that he couldn't have spent even the last two summers with his godfather left the time spent with him woefully short.

Harry also studied the theory behind apparition and portkey creation. Creating portkeys was actually easier than apparating, as it was possible to break the complicated piece of magic into smaller, more manageable parts, and do it with the help of a wand. Also there wasn't risk of splinching, the only danger involved was possible obstacles in the target coordinates. Unlike with apparition, it was impossible to do minor adjustments when landing with a portkey, so if the coordinates were off, there was nothing you could do to prevent a crash landing.

But Harry was sure he could do it, and he wouldn't use the portkeys to travel anywhere else than a few places he knew already.

While studying in the now silent library Daphne came to look for him.

"Potter. Harry. We have a problem", she said. "Some Gryffindor saw us in the broom cupboard last Friday, and now there's a rumour that we are together."

"How big of a problem is it?"

"Well, right now it's not that big, as the term is about to end. Tracey said she heard some Ravenclaws talking in a rest room. The Slytherins are currently laughing at the idea, but it might turn ugly if we are seen together."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Well, it was bound to come into open sooner or later. I mean, when your father votes for me in Wizengamot, everyone will know there's something going on between our families, and with the rumours around, it won't take long before someone connects the dots to you. I think we should just keep it low until the end of the term, and then we have time to think it over before the new year starts."

"Right. We'll probably have to take some kind of public stand on this sometime, but that sounds good."

"Yeah. But anyway, you might want to ask your father to check the wards on your home, Voldemort won't like anyone who publicly allies themselves with us. You being pureblood will help protect you, but better safe than sorry."

"True. I'll tell Tracey too."

"You do that. And Daphne, I'll send you a portkey to my home when I get there, I'll need your help with the public appearance stuff before I go to the Wizengamot."

"Okay, I'll see you."

"See you too."

- O -

Eventually the term ended and Harry and his friends were waiting for the train to depart. Harry's OWL results had arrived during the breakfast, and now he only needed to visit Gringotts to file the required paperwork to claim his status as an adult and a Lord.

"I wish I had my results too", said Hermione nervously. "I'm sure I failed the History test, when I had to leave after you. I didn't even have time to proofread all of my answers"

"No you didn't fail it. Even I managed to get an acceptable, you probably did just great. You always do."

"You never know. I might have mixed the Goblin rebellions of 1628 and 1682. Or -"

"Hermione! The fact that you remember both of those rebellions pretty much guarantees you remembered it right. My answers were nowhere near perfect and I got an acceptable. It really is quite hard to fail these tests if you actually try your best. And you made sure we all did that, and more."

"Harry is right, Hermione", Neville agreed. "The OWLs are designed so that pretty much everyone passes. And besides, there's nothing you can win by stressing about it now."

The trip to London went by peacefully, with Harry and friends talking about whatever, and a few other friends and acquaintances visiting their compartment. The Weasley twins made sure to prank as much of the train as possible, as it was both their last ride and a perfect possibility to advertise the products of their joke shop. Harry made sure to point them to the direction of Silvertooth to ask about the properties he now owned on Diagon Alley. The fact that those properties came with the Black investments probably meant that any shops currently residing in them weren't necessary in line with Harry's ideals.

As the train finally arrived to the urban areas of London, Harry was getting more and more agitated. That didn't pass by Hermione.

"What's the matter, Harry?", she asked.

"It's nothing", Harry said, looking out of the window.

"Harry, I've known you for five years now. I know it's not nothing."

"It's the Dursleys, okay? I really don't want to see them ever again, but I know they'll be at the station."

"It's alright, Harry", Hermione said rubbing his back gently. "You're your own man now, you can tell them off without any consequences. And it will be good for you to confront them one last time."

"I know, but I still don't want to."

- O -

Finally the train arrived at the station, and Harry prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. He left his luggage to Neville's care, as he would have to take a detour via the Longbottoms to see Charlus before he could go check the summer home he would stay at. He squared his shoulders, and stepped through the barrier to the muggle side of the station. This was where Harry would finally put a full stop on the sorry chapter of his life that involved the Dursleys in any form or type.

"Boy! Come here, we have waited for that blasted train of yours long enough, I won't wait for you to socialize with any freakish friends of yours" came uncle Vernon's voice from further down the platform.

"Hi, uncle Vernon!" he said in a faux cheery voice. "I'm sorry, but I'm not coming with you. You see, I have other things that need to be done, and acting as a servant for you doesn't fit in my plans. I'm afraid that you have made an useless trip to London, but I figured that you wouldn't have appreciated my kind of message, so it was kind of inevitable."

"What do you mean you're not coming? No get your arse up here, or I will have to come get it myself!", answered Vernon, his face getting darker red as he spoke.

"I mean exactly what I'm saying. I won't step my foot in your miserable home ever again. And you really don't need to try and threaten me, a lot scarier people have tried, and compared to them you're only a nuisance at best."

"Now listen there boy!" Vernon bellowed, "I won't be threatened by a runt like you! I've come here to get you, and I don't do trips like this for no reason!"

Now Harry was getting angry too. Vernon really didn't get the point, now did he? Wasn't getting rid of Harry what he had always wanted?

"I haven't threatened you yet, Vernon", Harry said, "But I can do that, if you really want."

At this point Harry was really starting to radiate the aura of power and authority Daphne had tried to drill to him. The bottled up emotions from years of ridicule and mistreatment were coming up, and even Vernon had to admit that Harry wasn't the scared little boy who had lived under his stairs any more, but confident young man who could make true of his words.

"You see, I'm pretty influential in my world. All I would need to do is to mention your name in public, and half of them would want to kill you just to hurt me. Not that I would really care, mind you, but they wouldn't know that. Or I could mention how you have treated me like a slave, and the other half would want you dead for hurting me."

"But I'm not really that vindictive person", Harry continued, "even if all the adult influence I had when I was growing up were you and Petunia, and occasionally your sister Marge. I think that it will be enough of a punishment for you to know that I actually have a seat in our House of Lords, and that I'm filthy rich. And that had you just treated me like decent human beings treat children, I would have happily shared all my wealth with you. But you made your own bed, as they say, and now I don't want anything to do with you any more. Good bye!"

With that Harry turned around and left, leaving stunned Vernon Dursley behind. The order members that had been tasked to guard Harry back to his relatives couldn't do anything but stare flabbergasted at the scene in front of them, when Harry disappeared back to the magical side of the station. He wouldn't see his Uncle ever again.

-o0oOo0o-


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

-o0oOo0o-

After the confrontation at the station Harry managed to round the day off with a brief visit by the bank, where he managed to file the necessary paperwork for his change of status as well as get the trace on his magic removed. By all intents and purposes Harry was now an adult wizard, and he had the Ring of Potter in his finger to prove it.

A tired Harry arrived to the Longbottom home to stay over the night, before he would leave with Charlus' guidance to look for the house where he was supposed to spend the rest of his Summer.

- O -

The journey to the house was surprisingly easy after Harry got the instructions from Charlus. He first flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, took the tube to Paddington Station from where a train to Cookham left from platform two. From the Cookham station it was approximately one mile walk to where the house was situated on the riverside.

The house was a low, one story building hidden between trees and bushes. The layout was simple, with a large living room in the middle with guest rooms on one side and kitchen, dining area and the master suite on the other. A glass wall opened the living room towards the river, while otherwise the house was built with red brick, with stone floors and wooden ceilings. It had a definite modernistic feel in it, and had Harry been more knowledgeable about the history of modern architecture, he would have recognized the strong influence of Frank Lloyd Wright and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe in it. But he wasn't, and his only impression of it was that he liked the house. A lot.

The house was definitely large enough for him and his friends to visit, while it wasn't so big that he would feel lonely in it. It had light and open feel that the old headquarters couldn't have even dreamed of achieving, but it wasn't sterile and obsessively orderly like the house he had lived in the Privet Drive. All in all Harry felt like it could be a home for him, with the only downside that Sirius wasn't there to share it with him.

First thing Harry noticed when he approached the house was a huge motorbike that was parked next to the entrance. Harry felt a pang of sorrow when he realized that Sirius had probably wanted to teach him to ride it, and promised to himself that he would learn it himself. Once he entered the house Harry found more evidence of Sirius' visits; there were cardboard boxes full of clothes, books and other stuff on the floor and on the dining table, empty Butterbeer bottles on the kitchen counter and a cabinet full of Firewhiskey and various muggle spirits. Inside a small drawing room he found the guidebook to the wards, and promptly keyed himself to both the secrecy ward and the antiapparition and -portkey wards. He then enlarged Charlus from his pocket and placed him on the mantelpiece over the fireplace.

"I see you managed to find your way here", Charlus said.

"Yep. Wasn't too hard, your directions were excellent", Harry replied. "Now it's just that I really don't know what I should do next. There's so much to do, and I really don't know where to start. My whole plans were centred around Sirius, you know."

"Well, if you can't have Sirius, then you must find someone else to work with. Those two witches that I met earlier seemed to be very helpful, and smart, too."

"Yeah, that they are. Hermione's staying with her parents for at least the first month; they are muggles and I'm not sure how much she has told them about what's going on in the wizarding world. And she doesn't see them too often, so there's that, too. But I did promise to send Daphne a portkey when I arrived. I'll just have to wait for Hedwig to arrive before I can do so."

"Ah, yes. And just in case, you might want to target the portkey to some place away from here. It would be bad if a portkey straight into your home would fall into wrong hands."

"Huh, good point. I'll really need to start thinking about the security, too."

"You'll learn soon, lad, I'm sure of it."

"Let's hope so"

- O -

Eventually Harry decided to simply portkey himself to Diagon Alley to get Daphne. After a quick tour around the house they went straight to business.

"So, what's the schedule on the next few weeks?", Daphne asked.

"Well, the Goblins have arranged a shareholders meeting for the Daily prophet on Thursday; that's going to be the first battle. Apparently Malfoy has rode roughshod over most of the other shareholders, so I should be able to get some changes made in the way the Prophet reports things. If that goes as planned, I had hoped to make some sort of public statement in the Prophet over the weekend, to clear up some of the lies Fudge has had printed in there and give the people a short while to think how they feel about me. And then, on Wednesday next week there's the next Wizengamot meeting where I will take up my seat and call for a vote of no confidence against Fudge."

Harry sighed. "But the thing is, I have no idea on how I'll go on doing these things. It's not like I have experience on these kind of things, and I had hoped Sirius would have been here to help me."

"In that case you just have to settle with me. I do have some insight on how the Wizarding world works."

"Right. So, what do you think?"

"I think it'll work. We'll first see how much leverage you'll manage to get on the paper, and the idea of giving an exclusive interview is good. We'll need to prepare you'll speech for the Wizengamot and think what exactly you'll want to say in the interview. But the first thing is that we need to make you look the part you're going to play."

"So a shopping trip to Diagon Alley?", Harry asked with a hint of dread in his voice. He had after all heard all those horror stories about being abducted on a shopping trip with girls.

"No. The Alley has poor choice, and you going around buying complete wardrobe would be known by everybody. And the impression would be ruined as everyone would know that it's really just a costume. We'll go to Milan."

"Milan? But I've never been aboard. And I can't speak Italian."

"It's not like the trip's going to take long with a portkey. And every shopkeeper worth their money knows the relevant translation charms, so language is not a problem."

- O -

The magical centre of Milan was situated right next to the famous Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele II. It had similar glass vaulted roof than the muggle side, and the entrance was trough a popular _gelateria_ in the actual Galleria.

Having spent many hours and thousands of galleons walking up and down the Galleria Magico, as it was called, Harry and Daphne were sitting down at a small restaurant, eating delicious Italian food and drinking wine. Daphne had insisted that good red wine was the only reasonable companion for the _ossobuco_, and when Harry failed to find Butterbeer on the list, he had relented. And after the first few mouthfuls he had to agree with Daphne.

All in all the shopping trip had been a success. The new robes Harry had bought were just what he needed: anyone could see right away that they were obviously of the highest quality and very expensive, but at the same time no one could blame Harry of being a show off. They were at the same time conservative enough to not to offend the older folks, and modern enough to not to look ridiculous on Harry's not-yet-sixteen year old frame. Daphne had to admit that dressed up in his new clothes and shoes and sporting the new designer glasses that actually had the correct prescription Harry was easily one of the most handsome boys in Hogwarts.

Harry, being the hot-blooded male he was, also recognized that Daphne was a stunningly beautiful young lady. The Hogwarts school robes just didn't have anything on the light summer dress she was currently wearing, and the afternoon sun that was shining through the glass roof made her hair glow as if it was in fire.

"Daphne", Harry said, looking directly at her eyes. "We have been working together for six months now, but I still don't really know you. I appreciate your help an all, and I understand that you see this as business, but I'd rather we were friends."

"Friends?"

"You know, two people who can talk with each other and do things together. And I mean besides just planning how to overthrow governments."

"I know what a friend means, Potter, but what do you want?"

"Well, I have been watching you interact with the other Slytherins. You hide your real emotions behind a mask, and then show them what you think they want to see. When you are with me, you don't bother with the misdirection, but only when you think you are alone with Tracey I have seen the real you. And that's who I want to learn to know. The one who laughs with Tracey and shares gossip in the hallways."

"You have been following me?"

"Of course I have. You didn't think I would just trust a Slytherin like you without doing my own research?"

Daphne looked at Harry with a mix of appreciation and apprehension.

"You know, you aren't too bad at this."

"Thank you. And well, the sorting hat did want to put me in Slytherin. 'You could be great', I think was it's argument. Only I had met Malfoy before and didn't want anything to do with that house."

Daphne gave an amused snort before lowering her eyes to the glass of wine she was twirling in between her fingers. After a brief consideration she raised her head and looked squarely at Harry.

"Alright, Harry. What do you want to know?"

"I want to know why. Why do you insist on keeping up an act for everyone else? Why you are not yourself with other people?"

Daphne sighed. "You know that's not a very easy first question, right?", she asked. When Harry didn't say anything Daphne was forced to continue.

"Well, it was kind of an accident, I guess. It started back in the train first year; I guess I was scared, and was determined to not to show it to others. And then I had to cover for one lie with another, and it just kind of snowballed from there. The character I had created for myself became popular, and it wasn't easy to just let it go and admit that that person really wasn't me. And it was nice to be popular. I guess it kind of came to an end last September, when suddenly the whole atmosphere in Slytherin had changed. There was talk of the Dark Lord, and Draco especially was starting to act like he was some kind of regent for him in the school, and everyone had to follow his lead. It was always 'when my father hears' this and 'my father' that. I had been hanging around with the other Slytherins in our class, but last year it started to get more and more cold and cruel. Often for example Parkinson would come to our dorm and brag about this or that muggleborn Hufflepuff she had intimidated. I mean really? Bullying younger students while abusing your status as a prefect? How low can you get? That's why I decided I had to do something, and well, you know the rest."

"You do know that your act is up the moment it becomes public you're working with me?"

"I think I had kind of hoped it wouldn't happen, that I could just stay behind the scenes and give a nudge here and there. But now that we're here it's obvious that's not going to happen. You know, I never thought this could go this far. I believed it would have been an article or two in the Prophet with some kind of payback for Umbridge, but now you can basically decide who is going to be the next Minister of Magic. I knew you had money and your recommendations could open me some doors, but I never even dreamed you could have this much influence. And if- when you defeat Voldemort there won't be any bounds on how high you can get. You could be the Dumbledore of our generation."

Harry smiled at the Slytherin's priorities. He himself hadn't really thought about the potential political power he would get if he managed to survive the inevitable confrontation with Voldemort as a winner. His thoughts had been more on the actual surviving part.

"Yeah, I guess so. But I was thinking more about what your life in Slytherin will be like. Malfoy won't like the fact that one of 'his' Slytherins is helping me of all people."

"I can take care of myself", Daphne stated boldly. "I'm just happy that Astoria is in Ravenclaw. She was always daddy's little princess, while I was raised to be my fathers successor in the family business ever since it became obvious my parents wouldn't have any more children."

Daphne looked at Harry. "But what about you? I too have been watching you, and I know that while the rumours have some truth behind them, they aren't the whole truth. How come the filthy rich heir of an Noble House looked like a timid stray dog and not the prince he was supposed to be?"

The conversation went onward from there, with both of the teenagers getting to know each other better and the food and drink being slowly consumed. It was only long after sunset when they finally paid their bill and went to look for the travel agency for the international portkey back to home.

- O -

Daphne had decided it was simpler for her to stay at Harry's at least until the Wizengamot meeting than to travel back and forth via London or for Harry to sent portkeys with Hedwig. She agreed that it was a reasonable safety precaution to avoid having too many portkeys just flying around with owls, and she promptly commandeered one of the guest rooms for her own use.

It was Thursday morning, and Harry and Daphne were sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast. Harry was reading the booklet he had got from the goblins, while Daphne was working on the first draft for the speech Harry was going to give at Wizengamot, when Harry's eyes caught something interesting

"Oh, the sneaky bastard! The goblins truly are as bad as they say", Harry said.

"What are you reading?"

"This is a kind of a beginners guide for shareholders. Look at there, the underlined part."

Daphne took the booklet and looked at where Harry indicated. Her eyebrows rose up as she read the section about laws concerning general meetings.

"Well, this is interesting. And it really should make things easier than anticipated."

"Yeah, and the best part is that they did it themselves. The law is clear, and there's nothing they can say against it."

- O -

The Daily Prophet shareholders' meeting was held in a meeting room at the Daily Prophet offices. On the head of the table was sitting a man, who Harry recognized as the representative of Lucius Malfoy from the photographs he has received from the Goblins. The rest were mostly normal people who owned much smaller portions of the paper, and none of them had ties to the known Death Eaters, at least as far as Harry's informants knew.

"What are you doing here, boy?", asked the Malfoy representative.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Harry Potter, and it appears my grandfather had bought quite a lot of the shares back in his days, and I'm here to see that that investment is doing what it should do. I called this meeting."

"You can't be here. You're not of age!"

"If you want, you can go check that with the goblins or the ministry. According to the laws, I'm the Lord Potter, and legally of age. But the real question is why you are here?"

"I represent the largest shareholder! Of course I must be here!"

"Well, you represent one of the largest shareholders. You'll find that I have exactly as many shares as Mr. Malfoy does. But I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about the Law on Outside Influence of 1846. It quite clearly states that anyone who can be reasonably suspected of being under the influence of compulsion charms or potions, or, and this is the important part, the Imperius Curse, are ineligible to take part in any meetings or votes. Even by proxy. And I think having the suspicion repeatedly printed on the pages of our very own paper is reasonable enough."

There was a stunned silence. Harry silently thanked what ever deities existed for the law; having to actually fight against the obnoxious man would have been a nightmare, and he wasn't sure he would have been up to it. While Harry was sure the majority of the others weren't happy with Malfoy or his representative, it didn't mean they would openly side with him. Especially right now, when he was still very much unknown outside all of the rumours. Which weren't all pretty.

"You can't do that!", the Malfoy representative yelled.

"On the contrary, I believe I just did. I would like to see you leave the room. Now!"

"Lord Malfoy will crush you for what you're trying to do, boy! Remember that!"

"You don't want to threaten a noble lord, mister. And neither does Lord Malfoy. One might even think that he isn't under the Imperius, but is rather a real honest-to-God Death Eater. Now just go. You are neither needed nor wanted in here."

After the man had left the room and slammed the door shut, Harry turned to address the rest of the people present. "Now that the trespassers have been banished, we can start. Would I be correct if I guessed that I'm not the only one who's unhappy with the direction the paper has taken under Malfoy's lead?"

- O -

On Sunday morning the long awaited article finally came. The meeting had gone exactly as well as Harry could have hoped, and the Prophet now had new board and editor, with Harry as a member. He hoped to find someone to represent him on the board, as he really wasn't all that interested in running the company. He just needed the leverage to make the necessary changes in the publishing policies.

After that getting the interview done the way he wanted had been easy. The editor himself, a skilled journalist who had been writing mostly routine reports on the Wizengamot meetings until now while the more important and visible articles had been given to sensationalists like Skeeter, had offered to do the interview himself, and Harry was happy with that. Harry had even got a final say on what would actually be printed, but he had been confident on the new editors will to really change the direction of the paper and had only looked the article over cursorily.

On the front page was a huge headline over a full page photo of Harry himself.

_WHO IS THE BOY-WHO-LIVED?  
>The first ever exclusive interview with Harry Potter<em>

_Harry Potter became known to us all fourteen years ago, when he caused the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But not much is known about this young man, who just recently finished his fifth year at the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All we have is a collection of rumours and what little we saw during the Triwizard Tournamet a year ago, that was won by the very same Harry Potter._

_But this is about to change, as Mr. Potter himself came to the Daily Prophet offices offering to give an exclusive interview, the stated reason for which is the correction of the many misconceptions of him. The first impression already cleared some things about the young man; he came in smartly dressed, his posture radiating confidence and bright green eyes showing intelligence and wit. The mad and lying person as I am ashamed to admit also the Prophet portrayed him as during the past year was nowhere to be seen._

_"During times of war we simply cannot afford to lose focus because of misunderstandings that can be easily fixed", Mr. Potter said himself. _

_The major reason for Mr. Potter's need for clarifying his image is that he hopes to make an impact on the politics of the Wizarding Britain. "I had hoped that I wouldn't need to take part in it for at least a few years yet, but the inaction of the ministry and especially the Minister during past year has forced my hand. And as I have some say in things thanks to the Boy-Who-Lived thing and my family name, I would be foolish to not to do what I can to make things better."_

_Mr. Potter then went on to reveal that he had already claimed his position as the Lord Potter, head of the Noble House of Potter, and is going to assume his responsibilities in the Wizengamot next week._

_"My best friend Hermione Granger is a brilliant witch who found out that the laws allow me to take up my place in the court despite my age. And while I admit being young and inexperienced in the matters of the state, I have received great help and guidance from my other good friends Neville Longbottom and Daphne Greengrass, as well as from Augusta Longbottom and Amelia Bones"._

_For those who do not know, Ms. Granger a muggleborn witch on Mr. Potter's class on Hogwarts, while Mr. Longbottom is the Heir of the Most Ancient House of Longbottom. Ms. Greengrass is the eldest daughter of Damien Greengrass, a well respected pureblooded businessman who only recently was elected into the Wizengamot alongside his long-term friend and ally Paul Davis. And while Amelia Bones was removed from her position in the DMLE, no one can dispute her knowledge in the field of politics. As such it seems that Mr. Potter has managed to gather an impressive group of friends and advisers to help him in his foray to the world of politics._

_When asked what kind of policies Mr. Potter was going to drive for, he explained that he had both short term and long term goals. "The immediate goal is to respond to the threat of [He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named] and his Death Eaters. The ministry needs to get it's act together to protect the citizens and end the threat as quickly as possible. That gets priority over everything else right now. On longer term, I hope to get to know the wizarding world and it's customs a bit better before making any decisions, but I would like to think that any changes I wish to make would be for the betterment of the people. From personal experience I think for example the laws for the use of under-age magic could use some adjusting. Especially for the muggleborn and muggle raised children like myself or my friend Hermione being able to show the parents or in my case guardians what kind of wonderful things it is possible to do with magic could help the muggles to better accept the Magical world and lessen any fears or feelings of threat between the two worlds. But as I said, we need to first deal with [He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named] before it's time for discussion about other areas."_

_Mr. Potter has shown exceptional initiative in preparing for the fight by leading a extremely popular new group inside Hogwarts. The Defence Association, a study group focused on duelling and defensive magic was started this spring, and after the unfortunate demise of the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts Delores Umbridge during Easter holidays Mr. Potter's group was the de facto instruction in the subject for the rest of the term. Preliminary results from the OWL and NEWT exams show that the students taught by Mr. Potter were clearly among the best, with the average score ranking in the top three for the last decade._

_But war is not the only thing that holds Mr. Potter's interest. He has reportedly taken interest in the new store currently under construction in the Diagon Alley, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, a joke shop established by newly graduated twins Fred and George Weasley. "My father was quite the prankster while he was still alive, and I think Fred and George are brilliant in what they do. And there's never too much fun and laughter in the world."_

_All in all Mr. Potter seems to be a young man full of determination and will to do what is needed, and while he doesn't want to comment on questions about possible female interests in his life, this overview of the young celebrity's life surely makes him even more desirable among all the young witches in Britain._

- O -

The response to the article was massive. There were dozens of letter congratulating Harry for his stand, a thank you letter from Fred and George, who had seen huge increase of interest in their shop, and even two offers of marriage contract from more old fashioned families.

One particularly long letter came from Molly Weasley which went on from berating Harry from doing something as foolish as claiming his Lordship and giving an interview without consulting first her and the Headmaster to complimenting him on his new looks and attitude to warning him against trusting Slytherins ending finally with an invitation to the Burrow. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it. On one hand it was nice to know that she cared, but on the other the overall tone of the letter was awfully condescending and mothering. Harry didn't know how to respond to the invitation. The Weasleys were good people, but after his fall out with Ron it just didn't seem all that inviting.

Harry sighed and put the letter aside. Right now he had bigger things to worry about than what to respond to the mother of his former best friend. Daphne had finished her draft for the speech in Wizengamot, and they had been practising and polishing it ever since, while preparing responses to possible objections. Daphne had stressed the importance of the body language while speaking, and had been ruthlessly drilling him until he was able to keep his hands from fidgeting nervously. Harry wasn't quite there yet, but the progress was good and they still had a few days left to get it perfect.

Harry wasn't all that sure about the importance of it all, but at least it gave him opportunity to get to know Daphne better on personal level. After the breakthrough in Milan she had been a lot more open to Harry, and thus far he liked what he saw.

- O -

The Wizengamot Chamber was nothing like the courtroom Harry had had the displeasure to visit the previous summer. Instead of dark and oppressive, the Chamber was light and warm. The domed ceiling was almost impossibly high, and huge animated stained glass windows filled the circular room with colourful light. The overall style of the room reminded Harry of the Westminster Abbey he had visited with the Dursleys when he was nine years old. Clustered columns rose up to support the great Gothic arches, and the dome itself was an intricate web of ribbed vaults. The seats of the noble lords lined the wall of the chamber and were divided into booths that were individually decorated by the whims of generations of Lords, while the commoners had to settle for more simple seats and desks in the middle of the chamber. The furniture was made of dark wood that had acquired beautiful patina over centuries, while the actual structure was built with light coloured limestone.

But Harry didn't have much time to appreciate the architecture, as he was pacing back and forth in the small private room that was situated behind his seat right next to the chamber. All noble houses had their own offices, and much of the actual politicking was done outside the chamber and in the privacy of these rooms. Currently Harry's room was occupied by Amelia Bones and Damien Greengrass in addition to Harry himself, and both of them were sitting in conjured armchairs watching the nervous young man with amused smiles on their faces.

"Relax, Harry. It's going to go just fine", Mr. Greengrass tried to assure Harry. "The Chief Warlock is one of us, and we have done groundwork for this day for months now, and your article in Prophet was brilliant. And if I'm not mistaken, and your appearance tells me I'm not, my daughter has been working with you on the speech and overall impression you'll want to give. I have complete confidence in Daphne's abilities, she doesn't do anything she doesn't believe she is going to succeed in."

"I know, but I can't help but think that something is going to go horribly wrong in the worst possible moment. What if they just laugh at me? I'm not good with crowds."

"Please, Harry, who are you trying to fool here?", asked Amelia. "I've heard from Susan just how good you were with your defence group, and I have seen myself how you play Quidditch or performed in the Triwizard Tournament. They people out there might be the highest tier of government we have, but after that interview every one of them is just itching to hear what you have to say. And there's nothing they can do to stop you, it's all in the law. And as Damien said, the Chief Warlock is friendly, and he will silence everyone who tries to interrupt you."

"Amelia is right, Harry, and you know it. Just do what you're here to do. The worst that can happen is that you'll just win, but if you succeed, you'll be an instant legend. Even more so than you already are."

Soon a clock chimed signalling the imminent beginning of the session. Amelia and Damien stood up, wished good luck to Harry and flooed out of Harry's room, Amelia to her own and Damien to the common area. At second chime, Harry drew deep breath and opened the door that separated safety of of his private chamber from the arena where the Lords of Wizengamot had already mostly taken their seats.

The balcony surrounding the chamber was full of interested citizens and press. The fact that Harry had mentioned he would make his entrance to the wizarding politics during this particular session had attracted a lot of interest, and there was a wave of excited whispering as he stepped in and sat down on the high backed wooden chair, that was surprisingly comfortable despite its looks. Magic really was a wonderful thing.

The Chief Warlock banged with his gavel demanding silence.

"I call this twenty first meeting of Wizengamot in year nineteen hundred and ninety six to order. As the first order of business let us welcome our newest member to our ranks. Lord Potter, the floor is yours."

This was it. Harry rose up, discreetly wiped his sweating hands on his robes and gave a small bow to the Chief Warlock.

"Thank you, Chief Warlock. I am truly humbled in front of the responsibility entrusted to me as a member of this august body, and I can only hope to fulfil my duty to the people of our country to my best capability. I acknowledge that it is unusual for a man of my age to take up their position inside these walls, but neither is the time nor the circumstances that led to this situation exactly typical.

"Our community is at war. The self styled Dark Lord Voldemort wishes to demolish the lawful rule and establish his own leadership over us all, where only by kneeling in front of him one is allowed to live. This is not acceptable. We in the Wizengamot, every member of the ministry of magic and every citizen of our community needs to work together to overcome this challenge. The way I see it, the ministry has failed in this job. By first refusing to accept the existence of this threat and later by failing to act in a meaningful capacity the ministry lost my confidence in itself, and in doing so forced me to look for a ways to help make things happen the way they should be happening. That is why I'm here today, and that is what I intend to do.

"Chief Warlock, Lords and Ladies, as my first act as a member of this august body I move for a vote of no confidence against the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge!"

The pandemonium that followed this statement was huge. The minister, who had been frowning in his seat in front of the chamber from the start was raving in apoplectic rage, his staunchest supporters following their leaders example. The audience in the balcony was talking together, and the photographers in the press section were flashing away with their cameras.

"Order in the hall!", called the Chief Warlock, banging with his gavel. "Lord Potter, would you like to elaborate on the reasons of your movement?"

"Chief Warlock, the fact that minister Fudge has utterly failed to respond in the threat of Voldemort going as far as calling me and Professor Dumbledore liars in the press is enough reason for his removal. But I do have more reasons.

"Chief Warlock, Lords and Ladies, minister Fudge is indirectly responsible for the extinction of yet another Noble and Most Ancient house. Innocent man was forced to stay in hiding where he was killed by Voldemort because of the murderous intent minister Fudge showed against him, and the minister refused to listen to any evidence showed in his favour. Yes, Lords and Ladies, Sirius Black was an innocent man!"

Again pandemonium rose in the hall. This announcement was new also for the group of allies Harry had in Wizengamot. And as this was actually the first time the question of Sirius' guilt was brought in front of the Wizengamot, it was perfectly understandable. Again the Chief Warlock was forced to demand silence.

"You heard right. My godfather Sirius Black was taken to Azkaban from the scene of crime, without as much as a questioning. He spent almost twelve years in prison waiting for a trial that wasn't coming, until new evidence of the real culprit reached his ears. You see, Peter Pettigrew was not killed by Sirius Black, but instead Pettigrew framed Sirius for the murder of all those muggles and disappeared. It was only the overeagerness of the dementors that Minister Fudge had positioned around Hogwarts that allowed the real culprit to escape yet again, while five innocent people, including myself, were close to be kissed by those foul creatures. I brought this fact to the minister's knowledge two years ago, but instead of bringing in Aurors to question Sirius, the minister decided it was a prudent course of action to bring an executioner to Hogwarts and kill the innocent man."

"But you were confounded!", interrupted the minister. "Severus Snape told me the true story!"

"Professor Snape was unconscious for the duration of the whole confrontation with Sirius ad Pettigrew! And both Professors Dumbledore and Lupin were telling the other story."

"Lupin is a werewolf! You should know that they are not trustworthy!"

"And Snape is a Death Eater. Do you think Death Eaters are more trustworthy? And I think it's it very descriptive of the whole farce that also the executioner you had with you is apparently a Death Eater, or at least 'under the Imperius curse'", Harry said, emphasizing the last part with air quotes. "Tell me minister, do you have any more friends who are Death Eaters?

"And besides, Lord Black's guilt was totally inconsequential in the whole situation. He was safely apprehended inside the castle, and the fact alone that he had been able to escape from Azkaban in the first place should have been reason enough to question him, if only to help fix the security problems that obviously existed.

"And, Chief Warlock, that was not the only time when the minister saw fit to execute a prisoner instead of interrogating him. One year ago, after the tragic third task of the Triwizard Tournament a Death Eater was found to have been impersonating Alastor Moody as a defence instructor, and he had first hand information on Voldemort's plans. That is right, Lords and Ladies, only minutes after the ritual that resurrected Vodemort the minister had a Death Eater in custody, and could have gained valuable information by interrogating him. But again the dementors got their hands on him before the Aurors.

"Minister Fudge; tell me, are you just mindbogglingly incompetent, or are you intentionally trying to obstruct justice and help to destroy what we hold dear?"

The minister was sporting an impressive shade of red on his face that was clashing brilliantly with the green of his robes, and was sputtering incomprehensibly. The Wizengamot and the audience on the balcony were silently waiting for the response, still somewhat shocked from all of the revelations.

"That's what I thought", Harry finished before Fudge managed to get a word out of his mouth, and sat back down on his seat.

At his point the Chief Warlock regained his wits, banged with his gavel and cleared his throat. "Alright. I think we will now adjourn for one hour to discuss Lord Potter's motion before we vote. Thank you."

No one noticed and much less complained that there hadn't even been a call for seconds for Harry's motion.

- O -

A few minutes later, when Harry was sitting in his room still shaking lightly from the adrenaline that was leaving his system, there was a knock in the door. Harry rose up and went to open it. There was an excited Neville waiting for entrance.

"Merlin's balls, Harry! Gran took me with her to watch the meeting, and I was expecting to fall asleep. But you were absolutely brilliant! And all those things you called Fudge up for; he really is as bad as you have been saying he is. I didn't know more than a fraction of all that beforehand."

"Yeah", Harry said weakly. "And the sad thing is that that was only the tip of an iceberg. Fudge is Voldemort's greatest asset, even if he doesn't realize it himself. I'm just happy my part for today is now over, I can only hope it's enough."

"Enough? I'll be surprised if Fudge gets one supporting vote after that. I'm sorry that your godfather is dead and all that, but blaming Fudge for the extinction of a Most Ancient family was just priceless. None of the nobles can support him after that. It will be an absolute landslide. You know, after that show you now hold pretty much the whole country in your hands"

Harry groaned. "Great! As if I wanted any more attention."

"You have an interesting way of showing your disinterest, Harry", Neville laughed at his friend. "The way you wrapped a hall full of experienced politicians around your finger with your opening speech could make one wonder if you were the arrogant, attention seeking brat Snape blames you are!"

"Ha, ha, very funny. I don't ask for attention, I just get it. And you know that."

Harry sighed, before he continued: "Well, I'll just have to hand the country over to Amelia, then, and hopefully I won't need to attend more of these meetings, or at least don't need to do more than just vote."

- O -

In the end, the ex-minister Fudge managed to scrape together five supporters from the total of forty six voting members currently present, all of whom were common lords that had been helped into position by Fudge himself. The Voldemort supporters in the Wizengamot had faced the music and voted against Fudge, resulting in an earth-shattering landslide victory for Harry.

But getting rid of Fudge was only the first part of the equation. Getting Amelia elected was going to be a lot harder task, as the Voldemort supporters would inevitably place their own candidate, and no one knew what Dumbledore was going to do. The group that worked with Harry was only thirteen strong, and while there were certainly a few fence sitters or former Fudge supporters who had joined his ranks after the speech, it was still no where near the majority that was needed.

"Order in the hall", called the Chief Warlock banging away with his gavel and waking Harry from his musings. "Now, as the one to move for the vote of no confidence, Lord Potter has the right to make the first nomination for the new minister. If you please, Lord Potter."

Harry rose up. "Chief Warlock, I nominate Madam Amelia Bones of the Noble and Most Ancient house of Bones!"

What happened next, was a complete surprise for everybody. They had agreed that it would be Damien Greengrass who would second Harry's nomination. But it was not him who addressed the Wizengamot.

"And I second Lord Potter's nomination."

There was an outburst in the hall. Albus Dumbledore had broken his long tradition of staying away from the day to day politics and joined the war on Harry's side.

-o0oOo0o-


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

-o0oOo0o-

After the Wizengamot session was over, Harry was preparing to leave his office when a knock came on the door. Harry went to open the door: it was professor Dumbledore.

"Evening, professor", Harry said, stepping aside to allow the old wizard to come in. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, Harry. I hoped you could help an old man in his quandary", Dumbledore said, and after a questioning gesture to which Harry answered by merely shrugging he conjured an armchair and sat down with a satisfied sigh.

"After our last meeting I have been thinking about what you said to me", Dumbledore started. "And I must admit, you were right. The prophecy makes this your war, and I should have told you more than I did. So please consider my involvement today as a gesture of good will from my part. A sign that I will help you in what you wish to do. But I must ask that you would tell me beforehand what you are doing. Many of my allies here were stunned to hear about Sirius, and the fact that you mentioned my knowledge of it made my position quite awkward."

"I'm just doing what you should have done years ago. Fudge was never the right man to lead, and you should have got rid of him the moment you knew Voldemort was seeking to return."

Dumbledore sighed. "To be young and idealistic! You don't yet understand what responsibility that kind of power brings. I just hope you'll learn it soon."

"Power? Responsibility? You just don't get it, do you? I'm not seeking for power or responsibility, I'm more than happy to leave those to Amelia. But Fudge was making my life impossible to live, and he needed to go."

"And what if Amelia does the same? Will you just seek to remove her too?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I get there. But I trust Amelia will do what is needed and I don't think that will ever become a problem. Besides, she knows of the prophecy, she understands what I must do."

Dumbledore looked alarmed. "She knows? Are you sure that is wise?"

"Frankly, yes. She needs to know the facts to be able to do the right decisions. And it was necessary to tell her so that the prophecy wouldn't come up whe she interrogated Snape. If it had, then everyone would know about it."

"Severus? That was your work too?"

"Well, no. It was Daphne's operation. But I did have my hand in it."

Dumbledore looked at Harry appraisingly. "I see you have been working on this quite some time now. I only wish you will remember that we are on the same side in this, and that you can always come to me for help."

"I'll keep that in mind", Harry replied diplomatically. "The best thing you can do is to tell me everything you know. And Amelia too. Having the right information is the key to avoiding wrong decisions."

"I will think about that. But now I really need to go. I wish you best of luck in your endeavours, so much depends on you succeeding."

"I wish that too, professor."

- O -

The next Friday Harry, Augusta Longbottom and Damien Greengrass were gathered in the ministers office at Amelia's invitation. It was her second full day in office, and judging by the amount of paper on her table and around the room she was already swamped in work.

"I don't know if I should thank you or hate you or this position", Amelia said. "The ministry is in worse state after Fudge than I dared to fear. Apparently incompetence wasn't the only reason why Fudge refused to increase the funds of the DMLE. The ministry is broke."

Amelia gestured at the papers around. "I've been trying to make sense of this mess ever since I first arrived to office. Fudge has been blowing away money left and right. He has bought support with tax cuts, he has hired 'personal assistants' and 'junior secretaries' as favours. He has thrown lavish parties to his friends. The Quidditch World Cup Stadium alone cost over five million galleons, and the latest 'investment' he did was upgrading the wards and defences around his own home. One hundred thousand galleons! 'Protecting the minister', my ass."

"So, what are you going to do?", asked Harry.

"That's just it. I don't know what can be done. Some businesses are already moving their operations abroad, and raising taxes in this situation would only result in even more of them doing the same. The Insurance Fund and St. Mungo's are going to eat up even more money when the war really gets going, and already it looks like we are going to run out of funds around Halloween."

"Can't we, I don't know, take the money from the Death Eaters?"

"That's not possible", Augusta answered. "The Goblin treaties protect everything that's inside Gringotts, and those are not going to change without another rebellion. The best we could do would be to confiscate any properties or companies they own, but homes aren't worth much if you need to first buy a curse breaking team to take down the wards and traps and then do new wards. And I don't know how many would be willing to buy a Death Eater home in current situation. Besides, the wealthiest Death Eaters are officially 'under Imperius Curse'. We would need to capture and convict them before we could do even that."

The four of them sat silently pondering the seemingly hopeless situation.

"How much?", asked Harry finally.

"How much what? How much money we need?" Amelia asked and Harry nodded. "Well, to keep the ministry running for yet another year, I would say ten million more. Fifteen, if we want to start fighting back. And it's going to take time before we have the new troops recruited and trained, even if we don't try to make aurors out of them."

"I'll have to think about this", Harry said. "And talk to the goblins. But I might be able to help with the money."

- O -

Harry arrived back to home with a portkey. The goblins had confirmed what he had already known: he had enough money to cover the ministry's deficit, but it would take some time to liquidate some of the investments. And any property he owned in the wizarding world would have to be sold with great loss, as the market really wasn't that good because of the war.

"Why does it always have to be me?", he asked from Daphne, who was reading the Daily prophet sitting in the living room. "Why can't the ministry do anything right?"

"What's it now?"

"Well, apparently Fudge managed to completely ruin the economy of the ministry. They are broke, and can't really do anything. And it appears that if we want to have any support from the aurors I have to foot the bill."

Harry slumped on the sofa, exhaling loudly.

"It's not that I really care about the money", Harry said to Daphne. "Because I don't. It really doesn't matter to me if I have twenty, twelve or two million galleons, it's anyway more than I can even comprehend, much less actually use. It's just that If I give it away, I would like to decide where I give it, not just use it to fill holes dug by Fudge."

Harry sighed. "But I don't really have an alternative, now do I? If the ministry doesn't get the money, we won't have a ministry next year. And I can't fight the Death Eaters and Voldemort all by myself. And if I'm dead the money isn't going to do much good to me either."

"Have you though about what you could ask from the ministry in return?"

"Yes, and that's just it. I don't want the ministry to do anything else than their bloody job. They can't really give me anything that I couldn't get myself. And I hate myself for even thinking about it; it feels like something Malfoy would do."

"What about some sort of official position that would allow you to fight? Or maybe immunity from prosecution? You know you'll probably have to do things that are against the law, and it really wouldn't do to win the war to just end up in Azkaban."

Harry drew his hand through his hair. "Yeah, that could be useful. I can see how Malfoy or someone similar would try to sue me for killing Voldemort. Or his followers, as I'm pretty sure there will be situations where I'll have to go through those first."

Harry paused to think some more.

"And then it could be useful to get information straight from the ministry, so some sort of official position where I could get what I needed from the aurors could be just what I need. But still I wouldn't like it to seem like I was buying favours."

"It doesn't have to be like that", Daphne said. "You could ask for those first. You don't need to make it conditional before Amelia denies. And it's not like they are unreasonable demands, given the prophecy."

"So you agree that I should give the money?"

"It's your money, you can do whatever you like. But yes, I agree you should do it. But it's not like you need to be the only one to give money, you should publicise it and ask for others to help, too. 'Lord Harry Potter donates for the war effort - the country needs your help.' That sounds like a good headline for the Prophet. And you should make it a loan, the ministry can pay you back after the war."

"Right. Let's work with that."

- O -

"You want what?" Amelia asked when Harry came back to the ministry later same evening.

"I want immunity from prosecution while I'm fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I want access to information the aurors and the ministry has. I want to be able to fight this war to my best capability without needing to worry what will happen to me after the war is over."

"And pray tell me, why should I give you these?"

Harry sighed. This was it, now he would have to blackmail the ministry.

"Because if I can't fight this war with your blessing, I'll have to fight it without. And if I have to fight it without, I will not be supporting the ministry monetarily, but will instead use my money to hire every mercenary I can to do the fighting the aurors aren't currently capable to do."

Amelia drummed her desk with her fingers. There in front of her she had a man, no, a teenager who had almost single-handedly overthrown the previous government. Who was prophesied to kill the Dark Lord. Who apparently held the keys to her current budget crisis. And who had just threatened to take the war to his own hands if she didn't comply with his demands.

Amelia knew what would happen should Harry make good of his threat. The world of wizarding mercenaries was a brutal and bloody one. They would decimate the Death Eaters, but there would be an awful lot of collateral damage. There would be no trials, no one would be brought in front of justice. There would be only death and destruction. Assassinations in bright daylight. Firefights in the streets. Homes burnt to ashes with Fiendfyre. And given that her government was in crisis, she would be powerless to stop the anarchy that would follow.

"I don't like it", she said finally. "I don't like any of it. I don't like that you are basically blackmailing me, and I don't like the idea of anyone having immunity from prosecution. But I can see where you come from, I was there in your 'trial' a year ago."

Amelia paused to clean her monocle. "I will see what I can do. But I need some sort of guarantee that you won't abuse your powers. I want to bring the bastards to justice as much as you do, but that won't happen if you kill them. And I don't want innocent people caught in crossfire."

"I don't want it either. I just want to be able to fight this war and be done with it. And not worrying if someone decides they want to sue me for doing so will help me get this over quicker. We are on the same side here. But as it is my 'destiny' to kill in this war, I would like to do so without it being a murder."

"Right. Now, what did you say about monetary support for the ministry?"

Before Harry had time to answer, the office door was thrown open by an auror.

"Minister! There's been an attack at the Diagon Alley!"

- O -

Lucius Malfoy was not happy. The operation in the Department of Mysteries had been a disaster; not only had they failed to reach the objective, their entire group had been ambushed by aurors and the Order of the Phoenix. He had been lucky to escape, but in retrospect he wasn't entirely sure if it had in the end been better to get caught. You see, Lord Voldemort had not been pleased that he still didn't know what the prophecy said, and the fact that Dumbledore had yet again managed to force him to retreat hadn't made his mood any brighter.

His apparent failure last month was why Lucius was now in the Diagon Alley, dressed in his Death Eater robes and mask. He was leading a group of fresh recruits in their first mission, which was to cause mayhem and fear in the general populace. And punish Potter for his latest triumphs in Wizengamot. Their primary target was the new joke shop that the blood traitor Weasleys had opened.

It should have been an easy in and out job, but to Lucius' displeasure things were not going as they were planned. The Weasleys had implemented devious defensive measures, and as soon as the first curses hit the building the hideous animated jester figure in the front of the store had sprung to action, throwing all kinds of stuff out of his brightly coloured top hat. Currently half of his troops were hopping or crawling around transformed into all sorts of fluffy animals, and even though most of the adults had run screaming to cover as soon as they had arrived, now a little girl no more than maybe four years old was laughing merrily at the window of a nearby store pointing at them.

"Mummy, mummy, look at the funny bunny!"

Lucius sighed. This was not going the way it should have been. Luckily he didn't have a stated objective on this mission beyond causing mayhem, as he was quite sure he couldn't have met that with these troops. But as the whole operation was merely a distraction, this utter failure to do anything was still enough.

As soon as the aurors arrived to the crime scene Lucius barked a command to retreat, and after shooting one last curse at the aurors he activated his portkey with the rest of his troops that were still capable of doing so.

- O -

Bellatrix Lestrange was in her element. After spending over fourteen years in Azkaban her Master had freed him, and the last months had been the best time of her life as she was once again able to serve on her Masters side. And now she was silently edging nearer the moderately large house in a muggle neighbourhood east of London. Her Master had been most displeased how Potter had managed to turn the government around, and had given her, Bellatrix, the honour of teaching the brat a lesson. Potter's mudblood whore wouldn't know what hit her when Bella was through with her.

When she was ready in position Bellatrix gestured the other Death Eaters to circle around the house. No one would escape tonight! She searched for wards around the house, and did indeed find a relatively strong defensive enchantments protecting it. But they wouldn't stand a change against the attack by six experienced Death Eaters.

Soon enough the others signalled that they were in position, and Bellatrix opened the attack by casting the killing curse against the wards. The protections groaned under the onslaught of the black robed people.

Five minutes later Bellatrix' mad cackling could be heard as she basked at the warmth of the burning building. The eerie green glow of the Dark Mark floating over the fire mixed on her pale complexion and crazed eyes with the reds and yellows of the inferno making her appearance a frightening sight.

- O -

Antonin Dolohov and a crew of elite Death Eaters were closing in on the Bones manor. The Ancient home of the Most Ancient house of Bones stood on a hill surrounded by great oaks that must have been multiple centuries old. The building itself was medieval style grey stone mansion with crenellated roofs, and thick vines were climbing up on the walls giving the building old, imposing but at the same time warm feel.

The curse breakers had been working on the wards silently for days now, and the main protections around the house were almost ready to collapse. There was still an independent line of defensive enchantments that would have to be torn down during the actual assault, but Dolohov was confident that the attack would be success.

A slight sizzling sound in the air followed by a loud gong from the house signalled the fall of the outer defences. Dolohov shouted his commands and the Death Eaters started their charge against the fortress home of the new minister and it's defenders.

- O -

Lord Voldemort walked along the Privet Drive towards #4. His spies had finally found out where Harry was living, and Voldemort was here to put an end to the temporary uprising the boy had managed to get rolling. As he walked past the identical houses Voldemort couldn't help but wonder how in earth the Potter boy thought he could win against him, if he couldn't even find a place to live that would at least somehow reflect his position as the 'one with the power'. Power should be respected and embraced, not to be hidden in obscurity.

As he neared the residence of his prophesied enemy, he wondered where exactly his campaign for dominance had gone wrong. The pureblood families hadn't embraced his promise of better future, but instead had chosen to defy him. Couldn't they see the threat the muggles and muggleborns posed to the Wizarding world? One after another the ancient families had gone extinct, the bloodlines of the four founders forgotten, tradition blown away to the wind.

Once proud families were decimated. Blacks, gone. Bexleys, gone. Fingalls, gone. Bones reduced to two females, one of which was still a child. Longbottoms only survived through an old widow and a teenage heir. All that was left of the Waveney family was one senile old man who was both blind and deaf. Even the Malfoy family, his strong supporters, had became nothing but a shadow of it's former glory.

And the younger pureblood families couldn't see their opportunity moment either. This was their time to rise to the position that rightfully belonged to them, but instead they elected to join forces with Potter and the other mugglelovers. Voldemort still wasn't quite sure if the whole episode in Wizengamot had been orchestrated by the old fool or not, but it sure would fit in his modus operandi to work through his allies, keeping himself on the shadows.

Finally he arrived in front of number 4, privet drive, and was astonished by the lack of protective magic around the house. He could feel the remnants of strong wards, but even they couldn't have resisted a determined attack for very long. Voldemort shook his head. The old fool still believed in hiding instead of meeting power with more power. Hadn't he learned nothing from the last time? Any hiding place was only as strong as the weakest person who knew where it was. Leaving the protection of anything to the hands of the weak was folly, that Voldemort would never fall in to. He respected the strength of the old man and the magic he wielded, but he had always been too weak to truly use the power he had.

Voldemort walked up to the door, and knocked. There was sounds coming inside, shouting for the boy to go open the door. Voldemort smiled at the irony of it all. The Boy-Who-Lived would personally open the door to his death.

"Who are you and what do you want?", asked a tall fat boy dressed in loose sweat pants, standing barefooted in front of the Dark Lord. "And what kind of clothes are those? Are you one of the freaks? Potter's not been here since last summer, get lost."

Voldemort was floored. He couldn't remember anyone talking to him like that since he was still staying in the orphanage, and those were not nice memories.

"What do you mean Potter's not here? This is where he lives."

"Well, doesn't live any more. Dad says he had some cock and bull story about him being important in the other place, but I say that's bullshit. A useless freak like him could never be important, anywhere."

"Who is it , Dudley?" came a male voice from inside.

"Just one of the freaks. He's looking for Harry."

"Tell him to piss off. After the show the boy put on at the station I don't want anything to do with them. Good riddance if you ask me."

Dudley turned back to the Dark Lord. "You heard that yourself. Now take off before you get hurt". After that he turned back inside and slammed the door shut.

Voldemort stood there stunned. The nerve of these worthless muggles! Potter might be his enemy, but anyone who was prophesied to be able to stand against Lord Voldemort was worth at least some respect. As he got angrier a visible aura started to form around the Dark Lord. With a loud shout an uncontrolled burst of magic demolished the front door and most of the hall behind, as Voldemort drew his wand and marched inside. He might not get Potter this night, but there would be pain, screams and blood, that much was sure.

-o0oOo0o-

A/N Well, it's quite a bit shorter than the previous chapters, but there's something in the cliffhangery feel that I liked, so there you are. The last chapter ended in pretty much total victory for Harry, so I think a bit of a tension might be good for a change.

Also many, many thanks for the praise on the last chapter, although I must give credit where it belongs: the last line by Dumbledore is quite blatant rip-off from Lorddwar's "Harry Potter and the Summer of Change". But that's how creative process works; you see something that you like, you take it and combine it with your own ideas to make something that's hopefully better or at least somewhat enjoyable. I of course encourage others to steal my ideas if they feel they could use them. After all, they say that imitation is the highest form of flattery.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

-o0oOo0o-

"Minister! There's been an attack at the Diagon Alley!"

There was a silence in the minister's office as both Amelia and Harry looked at the auror who had delivered the message. It didn't take but a moment before Amelia's long training and experience kicked in and she was again on top of the situation.

"Well? Don't just stand there then! Do something about the situation!", she barked, before rising up and leaving the room. No one questioned Harry who followed the minister.

The emergency response room in the Auror Headquarters was full of action. Enforcers and field medics were scrambling for equipment, squad leaders were shouting orders, the logistics department was busily trying to decide which would be the ideal location for the inbound portkeys in the Alley. All five fireplaces along the far wall were burning green signifying incoming calls trying to inform the already alert DMLE.

"Minister!" saluted one of the aurors as Harry and Amelia entered the room. "We have a group of twelve Death Eaters in Diagon Alley attacking the stores. For the moment their defences seem to be holding, but we are almost ready to dispatch response unit there!"

"Good. Anything else?"

"Nothing. Except, well... some witnesses claim that some of the Death Eaters have been transfigured into fluffy bunnies, ma'am."

Amelia looked at the auror incredulously, as Harry watched the response squad to twirl away by portkey.

"Ma'am, that's what the report said."

"Right."

There was a slight pause as both Amelia and Harry looked at how the duty officers handled the situation. The back-up team with the medical services and clean up squad was preparing to leave when another auror came searching for Amelia with a parchment clasped in his hand.

"Ma'am! This just came from the monitoring office! Apparently the Potter kid is again doing magic where he shouldn't."

"What!", shouted Harry, not believing what he was hearing.

"Yeah, the monitoring device Fudge had trained on Potter's location just registered a huge burst of Magic. Apparently the stress from last weeks has been too much for the poor kid."

"Do you know who you're talking to?"

The auror took the first proper look at Harry, noticing the messy black hair before glancing at his forehead, where the iconic lighting bolt shaped scar was clearly visible.

"But... what about the monitor?" he sputtered.

"Well, apparently the monitor is malfunctioning, as Mr. Potter quite clearly is here and has been with me for most of the evening. And besides, there's no need to monitor Mr. Potter's use of magic, he adult for all all practical purposes now" Amelia said, not too amused to learn that the former minister had been specifically monitoring Harry's residence.

Harry felt a sense of dread wash over him

"Oh my God", he said. "The attack on the Alley was just a diversion! Or if not that, then only one of the targets. Voldemort is targeting me. And Weasleys! The bunnies! It must have been the Weasleys! He's targeting my friends!"

Amelia understood immediately what Harry was getting at, and exploded to action.

"Johnson! Do a complete check on Mr. Potters known associates. The Grangers, the Longbottoms, the Greengrasses and the Weasleys! We are looking for a series of assaults on multiple fronts! And someone call in the rest of the aurors! I don't care if it's their day off or not, we need everyone we can get on board. Do it, now!"

Amelia turned to look at Harry who was shaking slightly. Sirius' death had been bad enough, but it was ten times worse to know that his friends were in immediate danger and not being able to do anything to help.

Amelia placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Stay calm, Harry. We are doing everything we can to protect your friends."

Harry said nothing, and just stood there with slumped shoulders and lowered head. His hands were deep in his pockets, and he was once again playing with the DA galleon that he kept on his person as an amulet all the time. Suddenly he felt the coin to vibrate slightly and heat up.

Harry tensed and took the coin out, reading the message on the edge of the galleon.

"Susan!", he shouted. "Susan says she's under attack! The floo's down, and she couldn't contact you."

"What? How? What's that?", asked now suddenly much more worried Amelia. "How do you know that?"

"It's these coins. We used them to communicate with our defence group when Umbridge was still teacher. But that's not important, we need to help Susan, she's under attack!"

Amelia looked still a bit shocked, but she wasn't a veteran auror and long time leader for nothing. She quickly paid attention to the aurors that had started to arrive to the headquarters. "Kingsley! You're in command here now. Tonks, Dawlish, Norton, Hill, Campbell, Smith! You're with me. We are going in hot, there are Death Eaters attacking my home, and I'll be damned if I leave my niece in the hands of those savages!"

She summoned a piece of rope from the shelf next to the fireplaces and waved her wand over it, creating a portkey. "Everyone take hold, we leave in fifteen seconds!"

All of the named aurors and Amelia took hold of the rope, as did Harry.

"Harry? What are you doing?", asked Amelia.

"I'm coming with you", he replied, giving the minister his most powerful glare. "This is MY war, remember?"

Amelia looked Harry in the eye, and nodded. The other aurors looked questioningly, but there were no more questions before the portkey activated, taking them with it.

- O -

Susan and Hannah were spending a quiet girls night at the Bones manor when their conversation was interrupted by the loud sound of a gong that seemed to reverberate in the stone of the house itself.

"What was that?", Hannah asked, looking nervously around.

"I don't know. But it sounded like some kind of an announcement."

Susan rose from her chair and walked to the window. The second floor sitting room overlooked the small clearing in front of the entrance as well as the entranceway flanked by ancient oaks. She saw the aurors that had been assigned to guard duty in the minister's home run into position, when a green light emerged from the shadows below the old trees. Susan screamed when it hit one of the aurors, dropping him dead.

"What's happening?"

The scene in front of her was both terrifying and entrancing, and Susan couldn't get herself to turn her eyes away from the battlefield. The first casualty had had the aurors on alert, and multicoloured lights flashed back and forth in front of the house.

"It's... The Death Eaters are attacking us", Susan answered, as a cutting curse from the aurors gauged a deep gash on one of the oaks.

"What?", Hannah asked, coming to the window herself.

Susan was frantically trying to remember what her aunt had told her to do in a situation like this. "We need to call for help!", she said, running for the fireplace leaving Hannah to look at the destruction below.

Hannah looked down as the battle continued. The Death Eaters seemed to have upper hand, as one of the four aurors was already down and they had the cover of the trees, while the aurors had to settle for the low wall that was surrounding the small courtyard in front of the front door. A magical flare was floating over the battlefield illuminating the combatants on both sides: the deep black cloaks and shining silver masks of the Death Eaters and the blood red robes of the aurors. Small fires were starting among the trees, and Hannah yelped when one of the aurors had to dive for cover as a blasting curse from the Death Eaters blew hole in the wall he was hiding behind.

"Hannah! The floo's not working! What do we do now?", asked a panicking Susan who came back from the fireplace. She shrieked as one of the aurors caught a cutting curse on his shoulder, and fell down clutching it with his other hand.

"We need to help them", Hannah said, now with a more serious tone. "This is just what Harry said in the DA. It's not just for school, but for real life, so we can defend ourselves."

"The DA! Hannah, the coins! We can use them to call for help! Harry's been talking with auntie today, he'll be able to get help!" Susan was digging on her pockets trying to locate the galleon she had taken into habit of carrying around.

- O -

The scene where Harry arrived with the minister and the aurors was chaotic. They had arrived at the bottom of the hill behind the Death Eaters, and could see the defenders being worn down by the attackers. Fierce curses were traded back and forth between the defending aurors and the Death Eaters, with occasional stunner, disarming spell or reductor thrown down from two windows on the second floor.

With quick orders from Amelia the reinforcements fanned out to outflank the attackers, and joined the battle. Soon enough the Death Eaters found themselves surrounded, and while the numbers were still in their favour, the situation looked immediately better for the defenders.

Harry found himself drawn into battle. Reflexes honed by hours of dodging bludgers on the quidditch pitch and endless sparring matches against the training dummies and Neville in the Room of Requirement as well as his young age and athletic physique allowed him to dance between the incoming spells, with his wand blurred by the motion and curses raining out with the ebb and flow of his magic. His first adversary was quickly defeated by a stunner to his back as he was forced to defend against Harry's onslaught. Harry saluted to the window with his wand, and started looking new opponents.

Harry saw a purple curse from the apparent leader of the Death Eaters break through Dawlish's shield hitting him in the chest and knocking him down. Harry watched as the Death Eater turned to face Amelia, who was currently fighting with another masked figure.

"Amelia! Watch out!", Harry shouted, his wand already moving on the upward swing perfected with countless of repetitions in the Room of Requirement, before coming down with a violent slash and a scream of "Confringo!"

The Death Eater had barely time to turn to look at his attacker before the dark orange light of the blasting curse hit him squarely at the chest with a loud boom, blowing his left arm clean off and killing him instantly in a spray of blood and pieces of burnt flesh.

The sound of the explosion forced a small lull in the battle, and the remaining Death Eaters, seeing their leader down in an unrecognisable heap took their portkeys and were gone, leaving Harry and the aurors victorious on the field of battle.

- O -

"You do know that I should arrest you for what you did to Dolohov?", Amelia asked Harry. They were sitting in the Bones manor kitchen drinking tea served by the elves, waiting for the prisoners and wounded to be taken away and the perimeter being secured. "But on the other hand the coins you had given to Susan and Hannah probably saved my niece's life today, and your quick reaction might have saved me. So arresting you really doesn't feel right.

"Instead, I decided that I'll give you what you asked for. I'll make you an independent field agent with very liberal guidelines on what you can do and a limited authority over aurors on the field and during research. I'll backdate that so that it'll cover what you did today.

"But please, Harry, don't make me regret this decision. Don't abuse the power I'm giving you."

"Thank you, Madam Bones, I won't", Harry answered.

Amelia said a silent prayer that it indeed wouldn't come to bite her in the back while sipping her tea, when Kingsley Shacklebolt came in.

"Minister, Mr. Potter", he greeted them. "Scrimgeour arrived and took command at the HQ, so I thought to bring the report myself. We found two other attacks today, one at the Dursleys, and the other at the Grangers. I'm sorry Harry, but there don't seem to be any survivors."

"What? What do you me don't seem to be?"

"Well, the Dursleys are definitely dead, we found the bodies, but the Granger house was a burning rubble when we arrived. We can only assume they are dead."

"I need to go there. Now", Harry said raising up. "Where what is the address?"

"Harry, I don't know if that's the..."

"Where. Is. It?"

Kingsley sighed. "The address is #8 Green Street in Upper Darenford, that's East of London, but you really should first..."

The rest of Kingsley's words were lost as Harry had already apparated away, not caring that he hadn't actually practised the skill enough or that the destination was sketchy at best; Harry's knowledge of London's suburbs was not that great.

But Magic works mostly on intent, and Harry appeared with a pop on the far end of the driveway facing the now smouldering ruins of his best friend's home.

Harry stood there, watching with morbid fascination how the embers danced in the fire. He took careful steps towards the house, avoiding pieces of debris that had been thrown around when the two-storey building had collapsed. One charred piece of paper attracted Harry's attention. He picked it up from the ground, before he collapsed on his knees, weeping.

The paper fell back on the ground. Over the blackened coat of arms was the title of the book written with a blackletter typeface, and a hand-written inscription.

HOGWARTS: A HISTORY

_to Hermione, Our brilliant little witch.  
>Mum and Dad.<em>

- O -

Harry didn't know how long he had sat there in the ground when he awoke from his thoughts.

"Harry?" cane a voice from behind. "Harry!"

The voice sounded familiar. Harry turned to look, when a bushy haired witch tackled him into a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry! I was so worried. First the neighbours called that the house was on fire, and then the coin heated up with Susan's message. I was so scared and had no way to find out what was happening or if anyone else was in trouble."

"Hermione?", asked Harry, still not quite believing that his dead friend was there, talking away like was her style, "I thought you were dead."

"Me? Why would I be dead? I've spent the whole day with my parents, we were visiting grandma when the call came."

"Hermione, you don't understand. I was with Madam Bones at her home when Kingsley came and told us that your home was in ruins and that the aurors didn't believe there were survivors. What else should I have believed?"

Hermione looked a bit mollified, until she caught up whit what Harry had said.

"You were at the Bones house? What did you do there?"

"I was with Amelia at the ministry when the coin heated up. I told her that Susan was in danger, and then went with her and the aurors. There was a fight, and I helped out."

"Harry! You shouldn't just rush into fights. That's what the aurors are for!"

"I will always help when I can. That's all there is to that. And it's not like any of us is safe anyway, just look at what happened to your home. And Fred and George were attacked at the Alley too, and the Dursleys are dead."

"Harry! They were your only living relatives! How can you be so calm about it?"

"Hermione, you know what our relationship was like. When I heard that you and they had been attacked, there was no question about who I was more worried about. I came here as fast as I could."

Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder and saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger looking at them and the house by the car.

"I think we need to talk with your parents, Hermione."

- O -

It was Monday morning and Daphne was annoyed. She had learned to like her time together with Harry at his home, how Harry would cook breakfast for two (he had claimed it was actually fun to do so when you did it for yourself and your friends), how Harry would give her all the time and space she needed to read the paper, how he could discuss intelligently with her. It was so unlike the posturing and constant politicking of Slytherin house back in school, where Pansy would be always talking about this and that, playing the role of annoying housewife gossiping about things that couldn't interest Daphne less.

But then Granger had been attacked, and somehow she and Harry had convinced her parents to take a sabbatical and travel around the world. Harry would help with the expenses, and the money they got from insurance would be invested before they could by a new home after the war in wizarding world would be over and they would be safe again. And now the girl was also staying with Harry, occupying one the other two guest rooms next to Daphne's.

Daphne hated to admit it, but she felt more than a little jealous about the amount of attention Harry was giving Granger. This of course was completely ridiculous. How could a pureblooded heiress be jealous of an unremarkable bookworm? What did she have that Daphne didn't? And when did she start to think of Harry like this? But still, the feeling was there, and she couldn't quite get rid of it. Like now, when Harry was planning to leave to the muggle London with Granger to buy her new things that they hadn't had time to purchase on Saturday.

'That's it', Daphne decided. 'Clearly there's one too many women in this house, and with Harry being the bloody gentleman he is, there's no way Granger is going anywhere. So let's cut the losses now, before I get any more annoyed.'

"Harry", she said out loud. "Would you mind making me a portkey to Diagon Alley before you two leave to London? It's been a bit too long since I last saw my parents or Tracey, so I thought I could as well go home."

Harry turned from his discussion with Hermione to face Daphne. "Sure. We did think about going by train anyway. It's easier to avoid getting seen if we won't go through the wizarding areas."

"Great. I'll go pack then."

It wasn't easy for Daphne to admit defeat, so she didn't. Sometimes it was easier to just pretend there wasn't a competition in the first place.

- O -

DAILY PROPHET

_- Wednesday, 24th July -_

_SUPPORT OUR TROOPS - JOIN THE WAR EFFORT BY BUYING WAR BONDS_

_Last Friday saw a major series of Death Eater attacks around the country. In four different operations the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named managed to kill a family of muggles and destroy the home of a muggleborn student, while the home and family of the new minister Amelia Bones survived with minor damage. Our brave aurors were able to force a group of Death Eaters to retreat from the Diagon Alley before they managed to do much harm beyond disrupting peace. _

_But even though the day ended in the defeat of the Dark forces, not everything is well and good. Lord Potter, who was present in one of the attacks voices his concern over the overall situation of the country._

_"After Cornelius Fudge was removed from the office of the minister, I have learned that his incompetence reached to far greater levels than I previously had anticipated. The former minister's policies have ensured that the government is poorly equipped to respond to the threat [He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named] is posing to us all. The coffers of the ministry cannot cover the expenses of the war. That is why I have opened the vault doors of the Potter family, and I encourage others to do the same."_

_Minister Bones explained the situation a bit further. "Due to the current deficit we have decided that instead of rising taxes we ask our citizens to invest their money in new ministry issued War Bonds. This initiative will help us defeat the foe we are facing, and the money will be paid back with interest after the war is over."_

_We at the Daily Prophet support the campaign, and the publishing company has given it's contribution by buying two hundred thousand galleons worth of the new bonds._

_More information on the War Bonds on page 10, as well as from the Gringotts Bank._

Hermione folded the morning paper and looked at Harry, who was sitting across the table eating his breakfast silently.

It had been almost two weeks since the attacks that forced Hermione out of her home. During these weeks she had been busy reading through the books Sirius had moved to Harry's house before his death as well as the new ones she had bought to replace her small library that had been destroyed in the fire. Luckily her never-ending notebook had been with her in her magically expanded purse, or she would have lost all her research notes from the five years of school.

But in addition to reading Hermione had also had time to observe her best friend, and what she saw was worrying. Harry had spent much of the time training with the aurors at the ministry, and every evening he was so focused on books on defence that Hermione didn't know whether to be proud or worried of his friend.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you are alright. You've been awfully quiet for the last week."

"I'm fine. I just have a lot in my mind."

Hermione bit her lip looking at her friend. "It's Daphne, isn't it? When I asked what you had been up to in the beginning you were so happy to tell me what all you had done with her, the trip to Milan, the lessons on pureblood politics. You miss her, don't you?"

"What? No! I mean, what would she see in me? She's a Slytherin, she's just wanting to get to the top of the society, there's nothing more to it."

"Honestly, Harry, when did you get all Ron about the Slytherin? Besides, you heard yourself: you were just listing all the reasons why you think SHE doesn't like you, not the reasons why you like her."

Hermione smirked at the blush on her friends face.

"Alright, she's nice, OK? But it's not like I have time for things like that with Voldemort being alive and killing people."

"Harry, you've got to live a little. You can't just focus on the war. What's the point of fighting if you don't have anything to fight for? The prophecy isn't good enough reason."

Hermione looked at Harry and he looked back.

"Your birthday is next week," she stated. "You are going to have a party, and you are going to invite Daphne. I'll start planning the party, you'll need come up with a list of people you want to invite."

Hermione left the kitchen leaving Harry there, looking dumbfounded after her.

- O -

Tracey Davis took pride in that she was the only person on the planet who really knew who Daphne Greengrass was. The two had been best friends as long as they could remember, and they shared everything they did with each other. Tracey had also been the only person who Daphne had told about her disappointment about the Slytherin house, and about her plan to join the war against Voldemort on Harry's side.

But now, when Tracey had spent the past weeks with her friend, she could see that something had changed deep inside Daphne. Something she couldn't quite recognize. And that irritated her something fierce.

"What's the matter, Daph?" she asked. "You haven't been yourself lately."

Daphne awoke from her thoughts and sighed. "It's nothing. I just have a lot in my mind."

"Is it something to do with your plan? With Potter? From the letters you sent me I thought everything was going brilliantly. And the Prophet says pretty much the same thing. Potter's the hot name in the world, and father tells the Wizengamot is eating from his hand. The Ministry is finally getting it's act together, and since the attacks on Bones and the Alley there have been a lot of arrests in Knockturn and elsewhere."

"No, it's nothing like that. Everything is going just fine."

Tracey frowned. "So it's something personal. Don't say he hurt you, cause I'll rip him a new one if he did!"

"No! Harry's a perfect gentleman," Daphne objected. "And that's just the problem," she added quietly.

A wicked grin grew on Tracey's face. "Ha! So you have feelings for the Golden Boy! Tell me all the dirty details!"

"Tracey! There are no dirty details. Nothing has happened between me and him."

"But still you are moping here alone, and have been for the last weeks. Don't try to tell me that's nothing. I know you better than that."

"But this isn't how it was supposed to work! I was supposed to be the grey eminence holding his strings from the shadows, not fall for him. Some Slytherin I am, letting my emotions control me like this."

"But still, are you sure that's a bad thing? I mean, you were planning to use his wealth and fame all along, what's better way to do so than having him all for yourself?"

Daphne sighed. "I don't know. But what makes you think he would go for it? I mean, he's a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake. Being a manipulative bitch isn't going to win me any points with him. And besides, he's with Granger."

"Granger?" Tracey asked. "I never thought they would get together. I mean, sure they spend a lot of time together, but it's more like they were siblings. Are you sure about that?"

Before Daphne had time to answer they were interrupted by Hedwig pecking the window. Daphne rushed to let the owl in, much to Tracey's amusement.

"Isn't that Potter's owl? What does he say?" Tracey asked, walking to look at the message over Daphne's shoulder.

"It's... an invitation to a birthday party next week. Harry's having a party on Wednesday."

"Oh good! You can start getting your man back from Granger. Now show me your dresses, we need to be sure you catch his eye."

"Tracey!"

- O -

The last of July came and Harry was happily bustling away on the kitchen doing last minute preparations. After his initial reluctance he had warmed up on the idea of a party, and was now eagerly waiting for the start of his first ever birthday party.

Creating the guest list had been somewhat challenging for Harry. In the beginning it had included only Neville and Daphne, but after brainstorming with Hermione he had added Fred and George, and with them their girlfriends Angelina and Alice. After that Katie Bell had been a natural addition, and judging by the slight blush on Neville's face when he had popped at their place to deliver the invitation and check that Neville didn't have any other plans for his own birthday Susan and Hannah had also been good choices. After some consideration Harry had invited also Tonks and Remus, and with thirteen people total Harry felt the party should be a success.

Looking at the list Harry felt a little sorry for Hermione. True to her nature she had painstakingly crafted detailed schedule for the entire evening, but if Harry knew his former quidditch team mates like he thought he did, the plan wouldn't survive the arrival of the guests. Harry wasn't sure if he should be worried or excited about the mayhem the Weasley twins would inevitably cause,but luckily Magic made cleaning up easy, and the girls would keep anything too outrageous from happening.

Harry had just finished putting the final touches together when he heard the guests arriving with Hermione via portkey from the Leaky Cauldron, where she had went to wait for them.

"Harry! Happy birthday!" the chaser trio shouted as they embraces him from every side and planted kisses on his cheeks. "Thank you for inviting us," said Angelina, still the unofficial leader of the trio. "Nice place you have here!"

Fred and George followed immediately behind, and were determined to not be outdone in exuberance by their girlfriends.

"Harry, old chap! So good to see you!" said Fred, slinging his arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Indeed, my brother, it is a great thing to be in the presence of this fine young man," George agreed, adding his hand from the other side. "Happy birthday!" they chorused.

"Get off, you monkeys!" Harry laughed, pushing the brothers away. That was when he saw Daphne standing among the rest of the guests with a small, a little nervous smile on her lips. She was wearing a halter neck summer dress made of light fabric with flowery pattern that fell down to ankles, shoving her delicate feet and the low sandals she was wearing. Harry's eyes followed the dress back up to the dark brown wavy hair that was flowing freely over her shoulders. The slight uncertainty on her face helped to make her features look a little softer than usually, and Harry certainly approved the change from the customary harder, more composed look.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she said, giving him a small peck on the cheek.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry answered. "Great you could come."

- O -

"Can I talk to you for a while?" asked Remus when Harry was taking some of the dirty plates to the kitchen. The cake Harry had baked and the grilled meat had been success, and everyone was enjoying themselves.

"Sure, what's the matter?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you're coping with everything. I mean, with Sirius' death and the attacks on your friends."

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Harry answered. "Really. I tried to cry alone when I learned Sirius died, but Daphne was there to kick my arse. So I have accepted that it wasn't my fault, and moved on. And it really helps that I've been able to do things. Last summer I was forced to just sit in my room and wallow in misery, with no information on what was going on. But now? I hope I've been able to make a difference."

"She really is a nice girl, isn't she?" Remus asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yeah," Harry answered, missing the teasing undertones. "I really don't know where I would be without her."

"Well, I'm glad you're happy. Merlin knows you deserve some happiness in your life."

"How about you and Tonks? I saw you were pretty close back there."

"She's nice, but that's it. And it's not like I could have a normal relationship in any case. With what I am and everything."

"Moony! She knows you're a werewolf, and she wouldn't hang around you if she cared about that. She seems pretty open minded to me."

"Yeah, I guess so," Remus sighed. "But anyway, I think we'll leave now, it was a good party and it's nice to see you're enjoying your summer."

"Thanks. It's pretty much the first summer ever that I wouldn't mind if the school didn't start again," Harry said, escorting Remus back to the party.

Tonks was already waiting for the two by the hall. "Thank you for inviting me to the party," she said. "It was nice to see you again. And if you need help with breaking any more laws, you can always call me," she said, winking.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry laughed. "And it was good to see you too."

With final good byes and a hug from Tonks the two adults apparated away.

Harry turned back and saw that Fred and George had found the cabinet containing Charles and Sirius' stash of liqueur.

"Oh my!" said Fred, opening the door. "What do we have here?"

"Looks like ickle Harrikins has quite the stash of booze, my dear brother," George answered.

"Are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"If you are thinking what I think you are thinking then we definitely are thinking the same thing."

- O -

Harry woke up when a ray of sun sneaked it's way through the curtains and hit him in the eye. He carefully opened his eyes, but close them immediately, wincing from the brigth light. Slowly Harry braved a new attempt, and peeked out from between his eyelids, trying to identify the reason for the unfamiliar feeling holding him down to the bed. Without his glasses all he could see was a blurry mass of wavy brown hair that was resting against his chest, but as he carefully drew breath trying to makes sense of things the flowery scent from the hair brought back fragmented memories from the night before.

— _"Okay, everyone", Fred said, opening the bottle of firewhiskey while George levitated eleven glasses to the table. "Let's start with the old favourite, Truth or Dare!" —_

— _"Ha, Neville!" Harry said, as the now empty bottle stopped to point at his dorm mate. "Truth or Dare?"_

_"Truth,"_

_"Okay, let me think about this... Who are the girls you are most interested in?"_

_Neville's face flushed deep crimson as he stole a glance towards Hannah, before grabbing his glass and downing the shot —_

— _"I told you, George, you'll never be able to juggle with four butterbeer bottles" —_

— _a chorus of laughter as Alicia run across the yard to take a naked swim in the river —_

— _the beautiful brown eyes as Daphne Greengrass inched neared to kiss Harry in the lips, and the whistling as the simple kiss deepened into a passionate embrace —_

Harry's eyes opened abruptly. He had kissed Daphne! And she had kissed back. But, Harry thought, it was only a part of the game. And they had both downed quite a few shots before it happened. But why was she sleeping in his bed? Harry had no memory of that happening.

Harry rose up from the bed, careful to not to wake up Daphne. She made a small whimpering noise and curled into a tighter ball, the dress she was still wearing showing her bare back. Harry gently placed the blanket over her to keep her from getting cold, and staggered barefooted to the bathroom.

Having managed to refresh himself, Harry took one last look at sleeping Daphne and walked to check what else was going on in his home. Everywhere he looked were evidence of the party: there were a lot of empty bottles, glasses and plates on the table, as well as the remnants of the chocolate cake he had made for the party; Neville was silently snoring on the sofa, his left hand hanging over the edge and resting on the floor.

Harry absent mindedly took a handful of crisps from a bowl and stopped the still spinning turntable. His grandfather had managed to gather an impressive collection of sixties and seventies pop and rock music, which had proved popular even among the pureblooded magicals.

Harry checked also the guest bedrooms. Hermione was sleeping soundly in her own bed, and had apparently managed to change her clothes before falling asleep. Harry had a vague recollection of wishing her good night while the rest of them continued the party. He also remembered Susan and Hannah leaving, they luckily had their own portkey, as Harry wasn't sure how safe a portkey made by him would have been at that point of the evening.

In the next room Harry found Fred and George spooning each other, while the chaser trio was sleeping in what used to be Daphne's room. Harry shook his head at the sight of the twins, and made a mental note to buy a camera before the next party he would host.

Harry returned to the kitchen to make breakfast for himself and the guests, and was just preparing to break some eggs when he heard the toilet flush. Soon the door to the kitchen opened, and there, only a few feet away stood Daphne, her hair approaching almost Hermione levels of bushiness, her dress wrinkled from the night, but still almost breathtakingly beautiful in Harry's opinion.

"So, what happened? Between us, I mean," Harry asked, after the silence got awkward. "I mean, I do remember kissing you, and it was great and all, not that I have too much experience to compare or..."

Before he had time to ramble any more Daphne silenced him by closing the distance and kissing him on the lips again.

-o0oOo0o-

A/N This chapter took a while longer than was strictly necessary, but lack of free time and Diablo 3 eating up what little was left interrupted the flow, and it was also a pretty difficult chapter to write. This should be also the last chapter were we see an angsty and downtrodden Harry, the next chapter should include Harry's first use of his new hunting licence (although it's also one of the only ones. The aurors will still do most of the active searching with Harry and friends focusing mostly on defence).


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

-o0oOo0o-

The next Sunday evening Harry had again invited his closest friends over to his summer home. Harry and Daphne were sitting together on the sofa, holding hands, while the others — Hermione, Neville and the Weasley twins — were seated around the small table. There were a few bottles of butterbeer handed around, but otherwise the meeting was all business.

"I've been thinking lately about what needs to be done. I think we can all agree that we were awfully lucky that no others than the Dursleys were killed in the attacks three weeks ago," Harry started. "I mean, what are the odds that the next time Voldemort decides to attack one of us will be having a dinner with family friends away from home, or that I just happen to be in the auror emergency centre with the minister toying with my coin ready to move in with reinforcements the moment a signal is sent?"

The others were nodding at Harry's words. Hermione looked still a little shaken by the memory of seeing her home burned down by Death Eaters, and only her habit of carrying most of her important stuff with her in her magically expanded purse had saved her from the loss of absolutely everything she owned. The twins had survived with mostly cosmetic damage to their store, but it still was something they were far from happy with.

"So something needs to be done. First of all, I think some sort of reliable method of contacting each other and calling for help is needed. The coins actually worked better than I thought they would, but it's still a bit limited, and doesn't really allow meaningful communication. I mean, there's only so much space on the edge, and having the previous message removed without trace when next comes really messes it up, at least if you have multiple people trying to 'speak' at the same time.

"Second, we need to start carrying emergency portkeys with us all the time. That's just too simple a thing to not to do it, and having an escape route ready is just a basic thing to have.

"But most importantly, we need information," Harry concluded. "We need to know beforehand where they are going to attack and when. Then we could not only call for help or run away, but actually ambush the attackers and take them down. Snape was our only spy as far as I know, but he wasn't really very effective. So we need something else. Any ideas?"

Fred and George glanced at each other, nodded, and turned to look at Harry.

"You remember when you asked for 'wireless' Extendable Ears on Christmas?" Fred asked.

"Because we managed to make those."

"Only they turned out to be a bit too good, so we kind of left them be."

"We liked the original version more. We think they are much more fun."

"There's just something in the excitement and risk of getting caught that the new ones didn't have."

"But spying on Death Eaters? Now there's no need for any additional excitement."

"Just how good they are?" Harry asked.

"That's just it. We don't know."

"But they worked fine from inside Hogwarts to back home in Devon when we tested them during Easter, so I guess they're good enough."

"Alright. So we have a tool for listening to the Death Eater meetings. Now, how to get it there? Do we have any idea where they are meeting?"

"Well, for all we know they might be changing the meeting place every time," Daphne said. "We would probably need to place them in many places."

"How about trying to sneak them in on one of the Death Eaters?" Neville suggested. "That way it would move with them to where ever the meeting took place. Or what shape the thing is?"

"It can be any shape" George explained. "It's a combination of charms that need to be cast on the 'ear' and the receiver. We once tested it with a knut, and it worked just fine."

"So we could try to charm for example their clothes?", Daphne asked.

"Sure."

"That would still need quite a bit of those charms, as we can't know what clothes they'll be wearing in the meeting," Harry intersected. "Additional charms on the Death Eater garb would probably be detected too easily, and breaking into their closets to do the charming would be a bit too tricky anyway."

"How about we charm the Death Eaters themselves?" Hermione piped in. The others turned to look at her incredulously. "I mean, like a tooth or something. I saw this one film where they had a communications device implanted in the tooth of an agent. This would be the same, but with magic."

"And how did you think you would be able to charm a Death Eater's tooth?"

"Well, I researched dentistry spells after I got hit with Malfoy's tooth growing hex on fourth year. My parents are both dentist, you know," Hermione explained. "I had to ask for a permission from Professor McGonagall, though. The books were all in restricted section. Something about pain..."

Harry shuddered. He still remembered the one time he had been to a dentist before coming to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey took care of teeth with potions that were given to every student in the beginning of each term.

"And after the operation is done we can just obliviate the target and drop him at Knockturn Alley or somewhere," Hermione continued. "Then when ever there is a meeting we would have our listening device in, no matter where it was or what they were wearing. And I doubt they would ever cast detection charms on anyone's teeth."

"Okay, that sounds good. So now, how do we get our hands on a Death Eater?"

- O -

The Goyle home was situated in a valley surrounded by thick woods. The two storey Victorian stone building wasn't the biggest of old pureblood mansions, but none the less it showed just how Malcom Goyle had managed to keep himself out of Azkaban after Voldemort had been defeated by Harry in 1981. Like all other ancient homes, also the Goyle home was protected by ancient wards that meant the aurors wouldn't be assaulting it any time soon. It just wouldn't be worth it.

Besides, the laws protecting ancient homes were among the strongest and oldest in the wizarding world. Getting permission to break through the wards would need a conviction in Wizengamot, and getting a conviction would require arresting the man first, making the point moot.

"You still think your plan is going to work?" Daphne asked Harry. Daphne was staying under invisibility cloak while Harry had disillusioned himself. They were looking down to the valley from the ridge to the East from the house. They had been watching the house for the whole day, observing Mr. Goyle's habits with omnioculars and analysing the ward schemes around the house using a highly illegal spyglass shaped tool that Harry had found among the knick-knacks Sirius had left him.

"Yes. Actually, now that we have seen the wards and what our man does when he's at home, I'm even more confident that the plan is going to work. Those two were the biggest unknowns that might have made it fail," Harry replied.

"And even in the worst case scenario he's just going to die," he added after a small pause.

Malcom Goyle, father of Gregory Goyle, had been chosen as the carrier of the listening device after some careful deliberation. The first thing was that he was one of the few Death Eaters that Harry remembered seeing at the graveyard after Voldemort's resurrection who weren't currently residing at Azkaban after the failed operation at the Department of Mysteries, and as such it was believed that he would be present at the most important Death Eater meetings. Another reason was that Daphne knew his wife had died soon after the birth of his son in an attack to the Diagon Alley, and as such there weren't anyone to notice if he went missing during night. The fact that judging by his son Malcom wasn't probably the brightest wand in the dark went unmentioned, but not unconsidered.

"Okay, let's get going then," Daphne said. "There are better things to on a lovely night like this," she added with a seductive whisper in his ear.

"Yeah, let's," Harry said, taking tight hold of Daphne and kissing her gently.

With a silent pop the two observers were gone.

- O -

"You know it's creepy when you do that?" Hermione asked Harry when they were walking towards the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop with Daphne. They were doing their school shopping in the Diagon Alley as well as getting supplies for the 'Operation Tooth-fairy', as they had named their plan for getting ears on Voldemort.

"Sasha's not creepy, Hermione," Harry answered, petting the small, black snake he had bought from the Magical Menagerie that was coiled around his arm. "Besides, she is the most Gryffindorish snake I've ever seen, and her sense of humour is totally wicked."

"And just how many snakes you have seen?"

"Well, not that many. But Slytherin's basilisk was completely insane, and the boa I met in the zoo before I even knew I was a wizard was mostly just lazy. Sasha's an adventurer if I've ever seen one."

"Whatever you say," Hermione said, opening the blindingly brightly coloured door of the joke shop.

Inside was a total chaos. Fred and George had a policy of letting their customers experiment with different products before buying them, so the air was filled with flying toy cars and sounds of explosions coming from the warded fireworks test area while a couple of customers were fumbling blindly around wearing headless hats.

Harry sidestepped a patch of swamp near the entrance, before he noticed the proprietors wearing magenta robes explaining the intricacies of their newest version of the Skiving Snack-boxes to a third year Hufflepuff Harry remembered seeing at school, but didn't know the name of.

"Oi! Fred and George!" he hollered waving, trying to catch the twins' attention.

Fred turned his head, waved back and gestured towards the back room. The little group navigated their way through the crowded shop, and sat down on the comfortable couches of the small office.

After also George had managed to extract himself from the crowd leaving the store front on the hands of their assistant and everyone was sitting down with butterbeers Harry introduced Sasha to the twins. The little black snake found herself immediately at the centre of everyone's attention.

"Aren't you at all creeped out by it?" Hermione asked incredulously as both Fred and George were petting Sasha.

"No, not really," George answered. "We might be if Harry didn't say she's okay, but he does."

"And we can't help but feel giddy about all the awesome pranks we could have pulled if we had had an accomplice like her while back in Hogwarts," Fred added.

"True. Just imagine how the Slytherins would absolutely fawn over her and make her their mascot, while in reality she would have worked for us. The potential would have been absolutely humongous!"

"And not to mention how she could have slithered her way in practically anywhere, gathering information and delivering pranks!"

"Right," Harry interrupted the increasingly glassy eyed twins before they sank any deeper in the disturbing depths of their imagination. "Did you manage to make the equipment we talked about?"

Fred and George snapped out of their thoughts and were immediately back in business.

"Sure," Fred said. "I must say that your idea of using _two _pairs of wireless ears to create a communication device was absolutely magnificent."

"We have been working on getting it work on a more limited scope for public sales; don't want to make it too efficient or it would become illegal immediately. Say, relaying answers for exams or something similar," George added.

"We may sell pranks, but we do not condone cheating," Fred finished, puffing his chest out slightly.

"But the product, we have it right here," George said, standing up and walking to the storage cabinet at the far end of the room. "Just what we talked. Dragon-hide, two wireless ears for two way communication. A small stone for a portkey, password triggered sticking charm. And from the looks of it it should be exactly the right size, too.

"And here's the other end of the ears," George added, handing Harry both products.

"Great, thanks!" Harry said pocketing the small leather patch and what looked surprisingly lot like a modern muggle radio phone. "I'll need to test these and get the details finalised, but I'll notify when we are ready for the next part of the operation. shouldn't take too long, though, I want this out of the way."

Harry stopped to take a good look around the office.

"You don't happen to have anything else special back here?"

Fred and George visibly perked up at Harry's question.

"Sure we do," George said. "Take a look at this, for example. A shield hat! Creates a standard _Protego_ when hit. Won't protect against most powerful curses, though, and it's single use only, but it's very good if someone tries to ambush you. The ministry has been very interested about these, we are currently negotiating with the aurors for making these part of the standard equipment. Someone after all did manage to get some more money to them," he added with a smirk at Harry.

"Or this," Fred continued the product presentation, "a Debilitating Door-Mat. Stuns and binds any unwanted visitors when they come to knock at the door. We are planning to sell these as a final layer of defence for people who fear attacks against their homes. We still have a few problems with the Friend or Foe detection charm mainly as we don't have enough volunteers to test it, but it should be ready for market soon."

"The shield hats sure look interesting," Harry commented. "I might come back later to get a few for myself. But that's for later, I think we still have some more shopping to do.

"May I treat you to some ice cream, ladies?" he finished, offering his hand for Daphne.

- O -

The outer edge of the ward system surrounding the Goyle home was a good half mile from the actual house, and consisted of early warning intruder alert ward as well as anti-transport ones. Deciding to play it safe Harry and Daphne were again sitting on the ground about one hundred meters further up hill from the edge, waiting.

It was already the middle of August, and the summer holidays were nearing to the end when Harry had finally finished his preparations for the mission. It had taken some practice before Harry and Sasha had managed to find necessary understanding about what Harry wanted her to do, and teaching her to measure distances while she slithered in the ground. In the end it had become a second nature for her, and when Harry had understood that snakes measured distances relative to their own length and not by some arbitrary measure decided by a committee two hundred years ago everything had become a lot easier. It still required some careful calculations to convert the snake-length measures Sasha told him to units he understood better, but in the end Harry had been able to create portkey coordinates with great accuracy following directions from her.

The plan that had initially formed during the first meeting at Harry's holiday home was relatively straight forward one. The communications device improvised from wireless ears would be attached to Sasha's neck, and she would slither through the wards and infiltrate Goyle's home during night. There she would find the master bedroom, coil around the sleeping man while Harry triggered the password activated portkey attached to her, dumping the target where Harry was waiting wand at the ready.

Then was Hermione and the twins' turn to work their magic, before Daphne would obliviate and create new memories for the man. After that they would pour a bottle of firewhiskey down his throat and portkey him back to his bedroom using the measurements provided by Sasha with only vague recollections of exceedingly wet party on the previous evening and a massive headache.

The only downside on the plan was that it took quite some time for Sasha to slither the distance from the outer wards to the house itself. She had been on the route for the better part of an hour already, and Harry and Daphne were warming each other against the slowly cooling late summer night.

"Harry," Daphne started, "what are we going to do at Hogwarts? I mean, before it was just me getting power through you and that's all fine at Slytherin, but now it's more than that. It's not going to be pretty."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"I don't know. From the people on our year, Pansy and Draco are the worst, and Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent will follow where they go. Theo, Theodore Nott, is almost as bad as Draco, but has a bit more subtlety. Blaise is a follower, but don't I think he would do anything against me. Tracey is a friend, but if things get hairy I don't know if she's going to be much help."

Daphne paused to think a bit more. "Draco has tried to gather followers from other years, too, but I don't think the older students are too interested in his plans, and the younger ones know to not to disturb me."

"So Pansy and Millicent, and outside the dorm Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and possibly Nott?"

"That's right. I don't know if they would do anything too bad, but at least they will make my life lonely in the dungeons."

"Well, then you just need to spend your time outside the common room. If you think there's going to be trouble from the other girls, I could lend you Sasha to keep watch during nights. I'm not sure how deadly she is, but I don't think Pansy or Millicent would be too eager to find out. And it's probably going to depend a lot on who'll be your new Head of House.

"And if it gets really bad I'll take it to Dumbledore or the minister," Harry finished with a colder edge on his voice.

They sat listening to wind playing in the branches of the nearby trees, Daphne snuggling little bit closer to Harry. The last rays of sun from over the opposing ridge were illuminating the treetops, and a blackbird was singing in the night as they waited.

"Just promise me that you won't play the perfect hero if there's trouble," Daphne said. "This operation right here is how you do things: attack during night, hit them when and where they least expect it and don't leave them any chance to retaliate. Just promise me that you'll keep doing things like this; that if you get an opportunity to curse them in the back from the shadows you take that chance. We can work the PR later to project the image of a knight in a shining armour."

Harry turned to look Daphne in the eyes. "Daphne, I..." he started, and stopped to draw a deep breath. But before he had time to answer, he was interrupted by a hiss from the communicator: Sasha had arrived to the house.

- O -

Sasha was in her element. She had always been the most adventurous of the four siblings that had hatched the same time, and listening to tales of a war being fought outside the animal shop had done nothing to quell her ambitions to some day get her chance to show her fangs in combat. So when the black haired wizard had come to look at the snakes in search for someone to help him fight she had been the first and most vocal to offer her services. That the same wizard understood and spoke the tongue of snakes had only helped to seal the deal.

The following week had been spent getting used to the communicating method the two redhead had provided to her wizard as well as as training different infiltration methods in an abandoned house on the outskirts of a wizarding village far up north. There Sasha had perfected her skills on climbing stairs, slithering up vines to an open window and searching different rooms for the target. They had also tested something what the wizard called 'portkey', that Sasha didn't like at all. But it's not like the life of a soldier is all roses and sunshine.

But then had come the day of the actual mission, and Sasha was eager to prove her worth. Not that she had any doubts about it; from what her wizard had explained the mission was extremely simple grab and go affair, and if anything went wrong the backup plan was to simply pump the target full of venom and evacuate. A small part of her actually wanted to get a live target to test the effectivity of her venom, but the sense of duty was stronger. She would do her absolute best, and succeed in the mission without slightest of snags.

The over half mile journey down to the house had been uneventful, and the terrain was excellent for her to slither through. So, as the final rays of setting sun lighted the treetops on the hill her wizard was waiting on she made the first contact on the mission.

"_Reached the house. Entering through open window, four lengths to the left from front door. Over_."

Sasha slithered to the side of the wall, and climbed up along the bushes that were decorating the house. The lack of female presence in the Goyle household showed, as the bushes had grown out of control. Currently they covered over half of the ground floor windows, allowing Sasha easy access to the windowsill and the inside of the house.

Sasha dropped silently to the floor and slithered across the entrance hall towards the staircase, carefully relaying the layout of the room to Harry. The second floor was the most probable location for the master bedroom and as such the target, so it was the natural starting point for the search. Hopefully the door would be open too, or she would be forced to look for alternative entrance to the room.

The second floor landing was a long corridor with many doors on both sides. One room in particular captured Sasha's attention, as light was shining under the door. Sasha slithered towards the light, continuously hissing measurements for Harry, until she was right next to the door. The gap between the floor and the door was just large enough for Sasha to squeeze through.

The sight that welcomed her on the other side was something no female, snake or human, should ever see. Sitting on his bed was Gregory Goyle, his trousers down on his ankles with a well browsed magazine resting on his knees. Doing what came naturally, Sasha made immediate strategic retreat, dashing back to the hallway as quick as possible. Unfortunately, the sudden movement didn't go unnoticed by the teenager focused on carnal pleasure.

"Aaahh!" Goyle junior shouted from surprise, jumping up to his feet. "Snake!"

Of course, having his pants down didn't do any good to the already limited nimbleness of the lumbering teenager, and the shout was quickly followed by a resounding crash as the heavy built Slytherin beater fell down on his face.

Sasha was already well on her way down the corridor towards the staircase, when the door behind her opened flooding the hallway with light. Gregory had managed to get his trousers back up and was nearing on Sasha wiping blood from his nose with his left hand, holding his wand on his right.

Seeing the new danger Sasha turn from retreat to attack, and a cutting curse hitting a bit too close for comfort hardened her resolve. Death would visit the house this night after all.

Unleashing the force from her coiled body Sasha lunged forward and sank her fangs on the uncovered ankle of the unfortunate teenager. For agonizing seconds Sasha let the venom flow into the screaming boy before she let go and retreated to the safety of shadows under a cabinet only a moment before the door to the master bedroom opened and Malcom Goyle stormed to the hall wand at the ready.

"_Operation just went FUBAR. Target two was awake and decided to play hero. Target two is down, target one is on the move_," Sasha messaged Harry, who was screaming (as much as it is possible to scream while hissing) for information about what was going on with the shouting and noises.

"What happened, son?" Goyle Sr. asked the boy who was laying in the floor, clutching his ankle in an awkward position. "What's with all the ruckus?"

"Snake," junior said from between his clenched teeth. "A bloody snake bit me."

Malcom straightened up and started to scan the area with a light on his wand, looking for Sasha. "Where did it go?"

That moment Sasha made her move, and dashed out from under the cabinet, coiling herself around Malcom's ankle.

"_Activate!_"

- O -

At the same time outside Harry was cursing his bad luck.

"Fuck fuck fucking Fuck!"

"What's the matter?" Daphne asked.

"The bloody monkey was awake, and Sasha had to bite him. It's not going to be a clean operation, he might die from the bite."

Harry raised his hand to silence Daphne's answer, as he hear Sasha making her move.

"Step back! Incoming!" he shouted, drawing his wand.

Immediately afterwards Goyle Sr. materialized in front of them, Sasha coiled around his ankle.

"_Stupefy! Incarcerous!_" Harry incanted, stunning and binding the older man before he had time to react.

"Damn," Harry said. "We need to do something about the son. He just witnessed his dad disappearing in front of him, and even if he's dying from the venom we still need to get the body out of the house or no memory charm is going to hold and all this will be for nought."

Daphne pondered the situation for a moment. "Well, you should probably send Sasha to get him out. I'll think of something how we can spin this into the false memory we'll give to Malcom. There's nothing more to do about the situation, it's no use to mourn what happened. The plan was good and we had prepared as well as possible; that Greg was awake and saw Sasha was unfortunate, but there's nothing we could have done."

"But still. Shit, we just killed one of our classmates. How can you be so blasé about it?"

"I'm not. But this is war, collateral damage is something that can't be completely avoided. And Goyle was a follower, there's no way he would have learned to think himself any time soon. He would have become a Death Eater as soon as he could, and then he would have done something stupid like set the school in fire with Fiendfyre or something. Probably would have killed himself while doing it, too."

"Bloody Hell," Harry shook his head. "I still don't like it. But you're right, the only way is forward. I'll make Sasha a new portkey and then we're gone from here. There's still a lot to do."

A couple of charms and quick instructions later Harry and Daphne left with a portkey taking Malcom with them, leaving the snake for another long journey back to the house.

- O -

Harry and the friends had decided to play it safe with where they took Malcom for the operation, so they had furnished a small study in the Shrieking Shack at Hogsmeade. That's where Hermione and the Weasley twins were already waiting, discussing the theory behind various gadgets the twins had created when Harry and Daphne appeared with their prisoner.

"So the plan was a success," Hermione stated as Harry dumped the Death Eater to the floor.

"Yes and no," Daphne answered. "Greg got in the way, and he might be dead already. Sasha is on her way to get him out of there so we can deal with it."

Hermione raised his hand on her mouth, as Harry walked out of the room his shoulders slumped.

"You take care of your part, I'll go with Harry. He didn't take the possible death of our classmate too well. I'll come back to do the memory charms when you're ready."

Hermione and the twins didn't say anything but only nodded, standing up to take control of Malcom while Daphne went to search for Harry.

She found him sitting on the doorstep watching down to the village of Hogsmeade, where only a few lights still shone into the darkness of midnight. Daphne sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I can't help but second guess my decisions," Harry started after the two had sat a few moments in silence. "What could I have done differently, were there other, better candidates for the role of a mole. Stuff like that."

"You did everything you could. We thought about everyone we knew, and you know Goyle was the best candidate," Daphne said.

"The role of a decision maker is always a hard one," she continued. "It's always easier to hide behind someone else's decisions than make them. But someone has make the hard decisions.

"Amelia can't do them because of the laws, any other politician can't do them because the decisions are often unpopular. Dumbledore will not do them for reasons known only to him. That's why it has to be you. You are the only one who can and who will be listened to."

"But what if I made the wrong decisions?" Harry asked.

"Everyone makes wrong decisions, Harry. There's a risk in everything we do, and only afterwards can one see if the result was really worth the risk. But you can't live a life avoiding every risk there is.

"And it's alright. The fact that you feel troubled of potential mistakes makes it alright. I wouldn't like you nearly as much if you thought it was completely okay to do life and death decisions for other people. That's something Draco would do, or Voldemort. But you have to be able to do them when the situation demands it, and you have to know when it's justified. And you have to stop blaming yourself for every death in this war. What you are doing is trying to prevent more deaths, if you did nothing even more people would die."

The two teenagers sat in silence, watching the stars shining in the night sky, holding hands and offering support in front of the hard lot life had given them.

Finally Daphne rose up and dragged Harry up too. "Let's get back inside. The others should be done already, and Sasha's probably getting back soon, too," she said.

-o0oOo0o-

A/N Introducing Sasha, the Spec-ops Snake. Next chapter will have some fighting and return to Hogwarts. Hopefully I'll get it out quicker, it already has quite a lot of it done with scenes that were originally supposed to be in this chapter.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

-o0oOo0o-

"Again!"

Harry deflected an oncoming curse with a shield charm and took cover behind an overturned table. He fired his own volley of curses where he believed his currently invisible attacker to be, and a flare of a shield charm told him the location of his assailant. A new volley of spells forced her to drop the disillusionement in favour of reinforced defence, but his victory was short lived as an animated chair tackled him from behind, allowing Tonks to finish the duel with a stunner.

It was the last week of the summer holidays, and the train back to Hogwarts would be leaving on Sunday. As such this was the last sparring session at the Auror Training Facility Harry would be able to attend before going back to school.

After the episode at the Bones home the aurors had quickly taken Harry under their wings, and he had spent a lot of time learning spells and tactics with the aurors and the new recruits who were on an accelerated training program to fill the depleted ranks of the Auror Corps. This, along with the opportunity of using magic for all sorts of everyday chores like washing dishes and making his bed in the morning had done more to Harry's skill with his wand than the five years of schooling together. Having magic as an everyday part of his life had forged a deeper instinctual connection between him and his magic than any number of formal lessons ever could.

"Good job, Harry!" said Tonks helping him back to his feet. Their sparring duels had become more and more equal towards the end of the summer, and Harry's greater power and faster feet had allowed him to defeat the more skilled auror from time to time. "You pretty much have the silent casting down. With that, and those spell chains Roberts taught you, you have the NEWT-level practical DADA more or less mastered. In one on one duelling you are still in disadvantage against more experienced fighters, but on the battlefield it mostly comes down to getting cursed from behind or flank, like you saw at the Bones'. And your spatial awareness is one of the best I've ever seen. Must have something to do with you being a seeker."

Also the problems with the Goyle mission had been solved adequately, although Gregory had in the end succumbed to Sasha's venom. The body had been later found by the aurors at Knockturn Alley, and snakebite had been correctly identified as the cause of death. Daphne had managed to stich together a story about Gregory having a bout of teenage rebellion and running away from home while the father tried to drown his disappointment in Firewhiskey. This had apparently been good enough, as no doubts had been voiced by Goyle Sr. when the news had been delivered to him.

"Gee, thanks," Harry grumbled as he dusted his training robes, which were once again sporting more tears and grime. "Still doesn't make it feel any better getting your ass handed to you."

"Come on, Harry. If you were any better at your age I would be seriously worried about what you'd been up to. There is a reason why the auror training takes years, you know."

After the relatively successful operation Harry had hired Dobby as their chief intelligence officer responsible for listening to Goyle, and even Hermione had eventually accepted that Dobby really wanted to help, and that at least CIO was a more dignified job than a servant at Hogwarts. Also the pay was more than what Dumbledore paid, even if only by a knut in a week.

The listening device had thus far been a success, and at least three muggleborn families could thank their lives to early warning given by it. Not that anyone outside the close friends actually knew where the information came from, and even the minister had accepted it after Harry had assured he hadn't done anything too immoral to find his source.

"Yeah, but I have this prophecy hanging over me. I have to kill Voldemort, and it's not exactly reassuring that I can't even beat one auror, no offence."

Tonks frowned. "I know. But really Harry, you've got to realize that you're not going to be at his level any time soon. And even then he has the ruthlessness and lack of concern about collateral damage that I hope you'll never have, and that gives him even more advantage. You'll need to work your way around those advantages, not try to barrel your way through his strongest points."

During the silence that followed Dobby popped in with the receiving end of their planted listening device in his hand.

"Mister Harry Potter sir! The evil snake man is having a meeting. They is planning an attack against the Hoggywarts train! Mister is needing to listen to this, sir!"

- O -

The great dining table in the formal dining room of the Malfoy Manor was filled with people. Voldemort was sitting in the head of the table, flanked by Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. Next to Malfoy sat his two stooges, Titus Crabbe and Malcom Goyle, the latter of which still looked a bit down from the loss of his son. Further down the table were other Death Eaters who had been loyal enough to warrant a place on the Dark Lord's table.

"Lucius, what are the latest news from your source inside the aurors?"

"My Lord, there will be some aurors situated in the station, but the train itself will be defenceless. The attack will be successful."

"Good. Bones has been annoyingly effective as a minister, and we have lost many recruits during latest attacks. But well, a little stay in Azkaban will only make them more loyal when I can finally set them free. Holding the children hostage will make great inroads towards that goal."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered.

"Now, go prepare for the fight. You will attack by broom once the train reaches the countryside."

- O -

Harry and Tonks looked at each other with serious faces. Even Tonks' hair was brown instead of the usual playful bubblegum pink or purple.

"You know what this means?" Tonks asked.

"Yeah. We need to take this to the minister right away. The attack in itself is bad enough, but the fact that there are rats within the aurors is even worse."

- O -

Minister Bones was sitting in her office going through the never ending paperwork, when someone came knocking on the door. She sighed partly of annoyance for being interrupted, and partly from relief of getting a pause from the tedious bureaucracy.

"Come in," she said, laying down her quill and taking off her monocle for cleaning.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. And Auror Tonks? What is the matter?"

"How secure is this room?" Harry asked as soon as he had closed the door behind.

"Why? The best, I made sure of that after the attack on my home."

Harry looked around, suspiciously, before focusing solely on the minister. "I just received new information on future Death Eater activity, but the bad part is that there's apparently a leak on the Auror Corps. Lucius Malfoy has an informant who relays the plans to Voldemort. They are planning an attack against the Hogwarts Express, and they know the extent of measures we are taking to protect it."

The minister leaned back on her chair and regarded Harry carefully.

"How reliable is your source? I mean, it could be a hoax designed to trick us to a wild goose hunt while they do what they please."

"My source is extremely reliable," Harry answered. "In fact he is so reliable, even he himself doesn't know he is my source."

"What have you done, Harry?"

"Nothing you wouldn't have done if you had the possibility. I have ears on their meetings, and let's just say it's Magic."

Minister Bones sighed again. "Alright," she said. "We'll have to deal with the attack then, and change the operating procedures of the aurors. There's really no way of telling who the traitor is, so the only way forward is to organize things so that there's not much for him to tell them. Come back to me if you hear anything more about the double-crosser."

- O -

The morning of September the first dawned with sunshine, and Harry and Hermione were preparing to leave to the station to meet their friends. The platform was full as ever, but the nervous tension because of the ongoing war was palpable. Harry greeted minister Bones who was there saying goodbyes to Susan with a squad of aurors, as well as some other adults he recognized meeting during the summer.

Soon enough they managed to secure a compartment, and Harry started to explain what was going to happen to Daphne and Tracey who were sitting with them. Neville had opted to sit with Susan and Hannah, and a quick nod told Harry that Susan knew, and was going to tell the others as soon as they had settled down.

"So let me get this straight," Tracey said after Harry had finished his explanation. "The Death Eaters are going to attack the Express, and the aurors are going to portkey us to safety and fight them on the move?"

Daphne was just glaring at Harry for not telling her as soon as he learned about the attack, but had relented after Harry explained that it was something that was best told face to face, and there hadn't been an opportunity to meet before now.

"Yeah, that's the general idea," Harry answered. "They expect to capture a train full of children, but instead they'll have to fight the aurors. Hopefully we'll be able to take down more of them."

"I must say it's good you have your informant. Imagine if we didn't know about the attack, the war would be pretty much over right here and now. Having all the students as hostages would have the ministry folding over like a house of cards."

"True. There were some issues with it, but I'll say the cost was justified by this single piece of information alone," Harry replied, shooting Daphne a look of thanks. If it wasn't for her he would probably have spent the rest of august brooding over Goyle.

Their conversation was interrupted when the door of their compartment opened. Draco Malfoy had decided to do his annual taunting appearance early this year, the only difference was the lack of Gregory Goyle guarding his left flank.

"Greengrass," he drawled. "I wouldn't have believed you would lower yourself to the level of Potter and a mudblood. Associating with filth like them will not be tolerated in Slytherin. And the same goes to you, too, Davis. But there is still time to re-affirm your loyalties, before the Dark Lord will consider you and your families as enemies."

"Get lost, Malfoy," Daphne said, with a sneer that wouldn't have been out of place on Snape's face. "Unlike you, Harry is a man of his own, and doesn't need to hide behind the back of his father. And my family has made it's stance clear enough in Wizengamot. It's a pity dear Lucius hasn't been able to attend lately."

Draco's face flushed red at the comments, but constrained his emotions and turned to Harry. "And you, Potter, you better be careful or you'll end up like your mutt of a godfather. That man was really a disgrace for the noble name of Black."

Harry remembered his lessons with Daphne and didn't raise to the bait. "If there's anyone who has any say on the name of Black it's me, as the Black of Blackmoor. And anyway, your cowardly bastard of a _master_ didn't even dare to deal with him face to face, but burned the whole neighbourhood down while he was sleeping."

"Take that back!" Draco shouted, whipping his wand out. "The Dark Lord is the most powerful wizard in the world!"

Harry and his friends had their wands out too. "And he is an illegitimate child of a muggle, that is, a bastard. But of course he doesn't advertise that, now does he? And really, we have you outnumbered four to one as I wouldn't count your monkey as anything. Besides, your threats were old in the third year. Voldemort already wants me dead, and I doubt you could match even his pitiful attempts. Now go away, you wouldn't want to end up like Dolohov, would you?"

Draco paled at the threat, having obviously heard what had happened at the Bones home. "You'll get what's coming to you, scarhead! Sooner than you'd think!" he said, before stowing away his wand and doing a hasty retreat. Harry slammed the door back closed, and sat down with a huff.

"He knows, doesn't he?" Hermione said. "That disgusting, awful, wretched _boy_ knows about the attack, and comes here to taunt us, wishing us to die. I hate him! Hate!"

"Yes he does," Harry agreed. "And it's not really that surprising. Nor is that he feels necessary to come taunt us. He just doesn't know that we know, and will be sorely disappointed when the aurors come."

"Are your train rides always this explosive?" Tracey asked.

"Pretty much, yes," Harry answered. "Ever since I turned down his 'I'm better than you, therefore you should follow me' introduction on the first year he has felt the need to come taunt me when ever I'm in the train. I really don't understand what's his problem."

"And what about the aurors?"

"They should come any minute now. They'll portkey every student to Hogsmeade and fortify the train for a battle. It should be all under control."

Almost as soon as Harry had finished his sentence the brakes started to screech and the train to slow down.

"I'll go help the aurors board the train and tell them about Draco. He might find a way to warn his father that their plan is going to hell," Harry said, leaving the compartment.

The train soon came to a full stop, and the girls started to prepare themselves to leave the train, pulling their robes on and packing away the trunks. One of the aurors soon came to their compartment, and gave them a length of rope.

"Due to security concerns we are portkeying you all out of the train to Hogsmeade," he explained. "Please take hold of the rope, and wait for the portkey to activate. Your luggage will be transported separately."

All three of them followed instructions, and soon Hermione, Tracey and Daphne found themselves standing in the platform of Hogsmeade station, and their trunks were appearing around them.

Daphne looked around, a small frown appearing on her face.

"Where's Harry?"

- O -

Harry Potter was flying high above the Hogwarts Express on his Firebolt, hidden from view by both a disillusioment charm and his trusty invisibility cloak. The train was again moving at full speed through the hills and valleys of England, heading north. He felt a bit quilty about not telling the girls what he was doing, but he knew they would never accept it, or worse, demand to join the fight. No matter that on broom Harry was pretty much untouchable, and while he was invisible the Death Eaters wouldn't even know he was there.

Harry dove nearer to the ground to check what kind of defensive force Amelia had managed to scramble for the train. He saw aurors busily warding the carriages against intrusion, and preparing defensive positions to the windows. The five three man squads seemed to concentrate their fire-power in the two foremost carriages, leaving the rest of the train empty, with one squad positioning itself with the engineer.

"Alright everyone, all eyes out of the windows, open fire at the first sign of the enemy," he heard Shacklebolt's voice booming in the intercom. "The rules of engagement are to shoot to kill, we are not going to stop to pick up any prisoners. Remember, those bastards are coming here to maim and kidnap children. If they hit the ground at sixty miles per hour and hurt themselves in the process, that's really their problem."

He could see the aurors putting on game faces, and flex their wand arms as they settled for the wait. Harry flew over the engine to the other side of the train and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt giving out orders to the engineer. Seeing everything going on to the plan Harry quickly gained back altitude and settled himself for long distance flight, casting warming charms to keep himself from freezing in the breeze.

Harry hoped everyone would get out of the coming battle in one piece, but at least this time they had enough warning so that they could prepare.

- O -

After three and a half hours of journey the Death Eaters finally attacked. From his vantage point Harry could see three groups of flyers closing in to the train from both sides, easily matching the speed of the Express running at full steam. The late summer afternoon sun was gleaming on the scarlet paint of the train, and the whole scene underneath Harry had a very surreal feeling to it. An afternoon like this should be spent hanging around by the water joking with friends or kissing with Daphne, not fighting a war against some idiots who insisted on wearing black dresses as uniforms.

As Harry begun his dive down into the skirmish, he could see the first volley of spell-fire erupting from the train, forcing one of the Death Eater groups to break their formation and regroup. The defenders of the train had definitely the advantage of better footing and protection of the walls, but the Death eaters on brooms were surprisingly difficult targets to hit, while every spell hitting the train was potentially doing damage.

When Harry neared the ongoing battle he was able to identify the assault tactic the Death Eaters were employing. Two of the smaller groups were providing covering fire from the sides, while the biggest team was approaching from behind seeking to board the train through the back. Harry immediately made the decision that the group trying to flank the aurors from inside posed the greatest threat, and steered his Firebolt to an attack course.

The first Death Eater had already landed on the rear bridge and was busily opening the door when Harry shoot his first spell of the fight. A heavy bludgeoning curse found it's mark and one of the death eaters was flung violently down, ploughing the tracks with his broom and disappearing in a cloud of dust.

"Watch out! There's someone behind us!", the Death Eater standing already on board shouted, before unleashing a volley of minor curses and hexes to the general direction where Harry had shot his curse. Even though individually none the spells were lethal or even very dangerous, Harry knew that getting hit by any of them mid-flight might well be the last mistake he would do, and he took up to put a bit more distance between himself and the defender. Seeing the enemy losing any idea where he was, Harry opened fire with his own stream of cutting curses, reductors, bludgeoners and blasting charms while simultaneously moving in a irregular evasive pattern from left to right and up to down.

The effect was devastating. The rear bridge was starting to get crowded as all of the Death Eaters still on broomsticks wanted to get on better footing to be able to defend themselves against the invisible assailant, and before the same man who had done the counter-attack had time to shield his comrades three more death eaters were hit, two mashing immediately to the ground while the third was left struggling with damaged broom and wounded leg.

"_Accio John!_" shouted one of the other Death Eaters trying to get his friend to safety, only causing him to lose control of the broom. The man hit the tracks face first and the pull of the spell dragged him screaming through the sleepers, until a particularly vicious snap silenced his screaming leaving the bloodied mess of a man laying between the rails.

"Leave him!" the apparent leader of the group ordered when he saw what happened. "We go inside, they won't fire on the train with the students inside!"

The four already on board quickly entered the train with a parting volley of spells while the two still on air decided to depart before they were hurt. Harry dodged up over the train through the cloud of smoke and steam emitted by the locomotive, and took a look at the rest of the battle.

The sight below harry was eerily beautiful. Spells of every colour were flying back and forth between the train and the death eaters on both sides, and their black clothed figures were performing unchoreographed deadly dance dodging up and down between the curses and hexes. Green and red and blue sparks were flying out of the smokestack of the locomotive as the magical train was straining to gain even more speed.

Harry could see that the number of the attackers was already down at least by half a dozen, but also the train had suffered heavy damage. The back end of the right hand side wall of the second car was almost completely missing, and the aurors inside wounded and only barely able to hold on their shields to protect themselves. As yet another blasting charm hit the compartment showering the aurors with debris Harry made his decision and steered the Firebolt on an attack vector against the group of Death Eaters on the right from the train.

The invisible attack from above took the enemy completely by surprise. Harry's first spell, a reductor, hit the broomstick of the leading Death Eater causing him to stumble in the air hitting the one behind him and taking them both down. His bludgeoning charm missed it's mark, but the third one, an exploding curse, turned the target into a mess of blood and flesh before the enemy understood there was someone in the air with them and performed evasive action scattering away from the crossfire. Two more were taken down by the aurors as the attention of the Death Eaters were focused on the new threat instead of dodging the spell fire from the train.

Harry took the time given by the sort confusion to position himself for another attack this time against the group on the other side of the train, when a magically amplified voice shouted from inside the train.

"It's a trap! There's no children in the train!"

Harry capitalized on the pause caused by the shout to launch an attack on the remaining group of Death Eaters on the other side of the train. Two more fliers went down before the apparent leader decided to cut the losses.

"Retreat! Without the kids the train is no use to us!" he shouted, before steering sharply to the left, putting distance quickly between the speeding train and him. The other Death Eaters quickly followed suit, and Harry was almost ready to begin a celebratory barrel roll when he noticed one dark figure zooming onwards past the train. Harry's heart missed a beat when he noticed the target in the distance: a railway bridge over a dry valley.

Pushing his Firebolt to the maximum speed Harry chased after the Death Eater, closing distance rapidly. But it was already way too late.

"No!" Harry shouted, slashing his wand wildly towards the enemy. An impressive ribbon of blindingly white light streamed out his wand in an elegant arc, but another bolt of magic, coloured familiar dark orange was already heading towards the supporting structure of the bridge. A loud explosion followed by a rising fireball was all the proof needed that the spell had hit it's target. The Death Eater turned to face Harry, and he could have sworn that the man had a triumphant smirk on his face during the brief moment before the ever expanding arc of magic contacted cleaving both of his legs clean off and broking the broomstick in two, sending him stumbling down towards the ground.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The damaged supporting pillar was already starting to crumble under the weight of the deck of the bridge, while the train was still moving at full speed towards the destruction that was now inevitable. The nearly one hundred tons of added weight from the locomotive was too much for the damaged structure, and the bridge buckled to the right. Sparks were flying from the wheels as the train fell off the rails and large clouds of steam were emitted with an angry hiss from the cylinders as the driving wheels lost all resistance from traction.

The two seconds it took for the train to reach the bottom of the valley lasted for a virtual eternity. Harry noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt grasping for support in the drivers cabin when the train tilted heavily to the right and saw the other aurors stumble around in the compartments as the rest of the train followed the locomotive down. A huge cloud of dust was thrown into air when the train hit the ground dried by the heat wave that had hung over Britain for the last weeks of summer.

The force of the impact caused a boulder sitting in the dried riverbed to tear through the reinforced wall of the boiler of the steam engine resulting in fifteen thousand litres of superheated water boiling instantly. The following explosion was enough to completely rip apart the massive machine shaking Harry out of the stupor caused by the horrifying sight of a train wreck happening in front of his eyes. Only years of getting hit by bludgers on the quidditch pitch and the world-class stabilizing charms on the Firebolt saved Harry from toppling down from his broomstick when the shock wave blasted over him followed by a scorching hot piece of metal slamming to his left arm gouging a deep gash on it.

The scene that was revealed by the settling dust was that of a total catastrophe. All that was left of the locomotive was a twisted heap of metal, and the front half of the first carriage was torn to shreds. The rest of the carriages were laying on their side, with the two last ones having landed on top of each other. The section of the bridge previously supported by the damaged pillar had collapsed completely, and the rest of it was leaning dangerously to the side. Harry could see the body of one of the aurors stationed on the locomotive laying still in a heap almost twenty meters from the wreck, thrown there by the force of the explosion.

A cry of pain alerted Harry that the situation was not over yet. Ignoring the agony in his own bleeding arm Harry took his broomstick down where he believed the cry came from.

"Help!" he heard someone's pained shout from inside the wreck. Harry immediately started vanishing and levitating rubble out of the way, resorting to manual work where the spells he knew failed. Soon enough he found a young auror he remembered from the training sessions, with his forehead bloodied and overall impression dusty and haggard.

"Potter," the auror said with a strangled laugh. "Should have known you wouldn't leave with the others. So it was you who shot them from behind?"

"Yes it was," Harry answered. "How bad is it? Can you help me?" he asked, helping the auror out of the wreck.

"My leg is pretty bad and I lost my wand somewhere in there. I'm sorry but I don't think I'm any use right now."

"I'll make you a portkey to the ministry then. You think you could us get some help?"

"Sure thing. Hang on in here, I'll go get the cavalry."

It took fifteen minutes for the help to arrive, and Harry had managed to extract two more survivors from the wreck when a staccato of pops signalled the inbound apparitions of the fresh aurors and a team of field healers. Harry was soon showed to the side and his arm tended to, with the healer muttering something about idiotic males with absurd pain thresholds.

It took a further hour for the situation to be cleared. When Harry was finally done with the questionings by the aurors and eventually Rufus Srimgeour himself, the sweep through the length of track the battle had raged over was done, and the fallen Death Eaters had been collected. The final tally was twenty three, with seven being held in St. Mungos waiting for shipping to Azkaban. Among those were also Malcom Goyle, who had been extracted from the wreck unconscious and both of his legs broken at multiple points. Nine aurors were dead, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the rest six all faced time in the hospital before they could return to duty. In case of one of them it was unsure if he ever could.

Sun had already set below the horizon when Harry finally was able to take a portkey to Hogsmeade, where he again mounted his broom and flew towards the castle. Waiting at the doors were two female figures, who stood up when they noticed him flying nearer.

"Harry James Potter! What on earth did you think you were doing leaving us like that!"

- O -

Eventually the day had advanced far enough for the welcoming feast to begin. Madam Pomfrey had grudgingly accepted that the field healers had done a good enough job in mending Harry's injuries, and Harry had been able to go clean himself up from the blood and grime of the battle. Even Daphne had finally relented from her anger after issuing an ultimatum that if Harry wanted anything to do with her he had better to tell her beforehand if he was going to pull a stunt like that again.

Dressed in clean, new robes Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione and Neville and glanced towards the staff table: a pair of black eyes were looking at him over a huge nose, surrounded by long, greasy, black hair.

"What is Snape doing in here?" he asked. "Didn't we already got rid of him?"

"Well, apparently not," Neville answered, having taken a look at the staff himself. "And look at the new one. Can't really imagine a defence teacher with three chins. But at least he doesn't look homicidal. Who knows, maybe you'll get one year at school without a DADA-teacher who gets you into a life threatening situation."

"Let's hope so. But well, at least I'm not taking potions any more. Won't need to be in the same room with Snape."

"You won't be taking potions?" asked Hermione. "I thought you wanted to be an auror?"

"That was last year. I think Voldemort will be enough of a dark wizard to last for a lifetime, and I'll have a full time job managing my fortune and dealing with the corrupt politicians at the Wizengamot. Besides, I talked with a many aurors during summer. There's awful lot of paperwork in that job.

"And Snape doesn't take you in his NEWT class if you didn't get an O from the OWL:s," Harry answered.

The three spent the rest of the feat talking about the upcoming school year and what subjects they were going to have. Hermione was not surprisingly continuing with almost everything available, while Harry's schedule was relatively light on NEWT-level subjects with only charms, transfiguration and defence. But he would be starting 6th year elective runes and arithmancy to help him with the wards of his multiple properties as well as the complications of accounting and taxes. The aurors had also told him that the better understanding of the theory offered by these subjects would also help him with spell-casting. Once again Harry had cursed his choice of taking divination on his third year.

They also talked about the plans Harry had for DA this year. He was determined to make the sessions even more practical by incorporating lessons he had learned during summer to it, and the result should be both useful and entertaining.

Finally the feast ended and the Headmaster stood up for his traditional welcoming speech.

"For new students, welcome to Hogwarts. For familiar faces, welcome back," he started. "Despite that the external circumstances are not the best possible and even the traditional train journey had to be interrupted, I sincerely believe we are going to get another year full of new experiences and joy of learning.

"As the time is starting to be late and you no doubt wish to socialize with your friends and get to know your new accommodations instead of listening an old man to ramble, I will not take too much of your time. But before we take our leave, allow me to introduce this years changes to the teaching staff: returning from over decade of retirement, potions master, professor Horace Slughorn," Dumbledore gestured towards the new professor, who stood up a little to give a small bow to the audience with a huge smile, "— and trying his skills on a new position, defence instructor, professor Severus Snape!"

The reactions from the students were varied. They ranged from polite clapping to outright indignation, while the new firsties were wondering just what they were missing. Harry was openly staring at Snape who stared back, neither face betraying any emotions but the tension between the two palpable.

"Just what does Dumbledore think? A Death Eater teaching defence? Snape must have slipped some potions to his food!" shouted Ron loudly a few seats away from Harry. Snape's gaze gained a new edge as he sifted it to the redhead, and Harry turned back to his friends.

"Apparently we were wrong about the defence teacher," he said to Neville. "It's going to be business as usual with Snape. And I truly thought I wouldn't have to see the man ever again."

"Maybe it's not that bad," Hermione started. "I mean, at least he knows the subject, unlike Umbridge or Lockhart."

"Hermione, knowing the subject doesn't mean he can teach it. We were over this already last year. We would all be better off without Snape, at least if I'm in the same room with him," Harry said.

"But we'll see it ourself in the first lesson. I just wouldn't hold my breath waiting for Snape to change his ways."

Before Hermione had time to answer, professor McGonagall arrived to their table.

"Mr. Potter," she said, "the headmaster wishes to speak with at his office."

"Thank you, professor," Harry answered. "I'll just say good-nights to my friends and come after that."

McGonagall simply nodded and and walked away.

- O -

At the headmasters office Harry was again subjected to questioning about the fight, this time by Dumbledore. Bored of repeating himself he went over the events quickly and without specifics, providing detail only when asked by the headmaster. Which was a lot. When he finally got to the point where Hermione and Daphne greeted him at the doors he was frustrated, tired and angry of the whole thing.

Dumbledore was silent for a good while, resting his head on his hands and looking at Harry over his half moon spectacles.

"Harry, I'm worried about how calmly you take killing the Death Eaters," he said finally. "You really should learn to forgive. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"Second chance to do what?" Harry asked, his anger rising against the ancient headmaster. "Kill me? Kill more aurors? Kingsley is dead because of them. Nine aurors out of fifteen are dead because of them. What more do you want to give them?"

When Dumbledore didn't answer his rhetorical questions Harry pressed on.

"I'm all for giving them a chance to surrender, but if and when they turn up to a fight I'm not going to stop before they are down. And to do so one has to use spells that are potentially lethal, as lesser hexes are just too easily blocked or reversed. I do not like the fact that people die by my hand, but in the end it is my destiny, as told by the prophecy."

"Harry, the prophecy doesn't mean that you'll have to be a killer—"

"Then what does it mean?" Harry interrupted. "That I'll have to be a martyr instead? Voldemort definitely seems to believe in it, and I would guess you do too, or you would have hunted him down years ago. You are after all the only one he is afraid of, and you already have experience in defeating Dark Lords."

Dumbledore sighed. "It's not as simple as it seems to be. I'm just worried about what will become of you after the war is over."

"Well, don't be. I'm not a killer, but I won't hesitate to do what needs to be done to protect myself and my friends. I do not support death penalty, and given our society's inability to give fair trials I think even Azkaban is too cruel a place for the prisoners. But when the bastards attack a train that's supposed to be full of children they deserve what they got. If they want different treatment they can walk to the ministry and surrender their wands. That's the chance they have and it's their choice."

"Alas, if that is your inclination I can not do anything about it but state my own opinion," Dumbledore said sadly. "But what I really wanted to talk to you about was what you said to me during summer, about me telling you all the facts. I have decided that it would indeed be the wise thing to do. I have arranged time for the two of us to study the nature of Tom Riddle and what needs to be done to rid this world of him for good. I hope you are not against this kind of lessons?"

"Are you going to teach me some of the magic you used when fighting Grindewald?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Ah, no. There is more to life than learning to fight, and I am sure professor Snape is more than capable defence teacher. My lessons will focus mostly on the history of the person who became Voldemort, and what we can learn about it, his strengths and weaknesses."

"I have made my opinion about Snape clear enough, sir. I do not think he is able to teach me anything. He has too strong personal opinions about me to actually teach instead of attacking my person."

"But you must understand how difficult it is for me to find a new defence teacher every year."

"Honestly, sir, I don't care. You could have even hired Remus again. He is the only teacher I've had that hasn't tried to kill me or harm me. He is also the best I've had thus far."

"Surely you remember why Remus couldn't stay in the castle? His condition hasn't changed anywhere."

"But the other conditions have. Remus being a werewolf was a problem for Fudge and Malfoy, neither of which are around to complain about things any more. Hell, we could even push new laws through Wizengamot if we wished."

"Be it as it may, I have hired professor Snape and he will stay as a professor unless something happens. And I wish you would at least give me an opportunity to try and persuade you before you make something happen to professor Snape again."

"Sir, what it is about Snape that makes you trust him so completely? Being a spy is one thing and I respect him for that, but spies aren't really the most reliable people by default."

"Ah, but it was the reasons why Severus turned against his master that makes it so special. You see, he lost a loved one, something you must be able to relate to."

Harry stared at Dumbledore disbelievingly. "He lost a loved one? I don't care if Snape loved my mother, because it's glaringly obvious why my mother didn't love him back. And don't say I should relate to him because of that. He may have lost someone he cared for, but he caused the death of my family. That is not something I can ever forgive."

Harry stood up and prepared to leave. "Good night, headmaster. I trust you can arrange the first lesson between us, but don't think I agree with you about Snape."

- O -

It was already late when Harry arrived to the Gryffindor tower. Everyone else in his dorm had already went to sleep, and Harry silently unpacked his things letting Sasha out of his trunk and went to the toilet to wash his teeth before settling for the night.

Almost as soon as he had laid his head on the pillow Harry fell asleep and found himself sitting on a throne like chair in a dark room that was lighted by flickering torches. He wondered briefly why anyone would have such a impractical and clichéd room when he noticed a man dressed in black robes kneeling before him. Long blonde hair was flowing under the black hood around the mask the man was wearing.

Harry could feel the contempt he felt towards the man. He had failed him, repeatedly, and his usefulness was rapidly fading. He was a fugitive now, and his money couldn't do much good without his connections in the ministry.

"Lucius," he heard himself saying in a cold, high pitched voice. "You have failed me again. You told me your sources in the ministry said that they had no plans for protecting the Express besides basic guard. And yet when we attacked it there were no students, only aurors ready for battle. Your source has betrayed us. You have betrayed us."

"My Lord!" the elder Malfoy said. "My source has served me well for years! He hasn't failed me once in all that time."

"Yet the information was false. You will see that your source is properly punished for his transgression."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered, bowing still deeper.

"As for you, I will give one last chance to prove that you are still valuable member of our organization. Years ago, I gave you something of great importance. Something that could be used to purge Hogwarts of mudbloods and that would leave the castle undefended. Now the time to use that weapon has come."

"My Lord" replied Lucius. "I don't know what you are talking about."

He could hear the nervousness in Lucius' voice.

"The book, Lucius!" he said. "I gave you my diary, to keep it safe, to keep it secret. Now I want it back!"

"My Lord! I... I — When you were gone, my lord, I planted the book on a blood traitor girl, the youngest Weasley" Lucius stammered. "I was trying to continue pursuing our goals, my Lord, even in your absence."

Harry felt angry. The diary was important part of his plans now that Lucius had failed to procure the prophecy. The basilisk that was waiting underneath the castle was supposed to take care of the old fool and preferably the Potter boy too. Yes, it would be a sacrifice, but he had other safeguards on place. But now this imbecile was saying that he didn't have the book any more!

"You planted my book on some stupid tramp? Why is the castle still standing, Lucius? Why are the mudbloods and bloodtraitors still running around freely? The book was a very powerful artefact, I should have heard about it being in the castle!"

"My Lord, it worked well, and I was able to force the old fool to leave the castle because the students - mubdloods and halfbloods - were attacked. But then something wen't wrong, my Lord, I was summoned to the castle, and there the old fool was, with the Potter brat, and they had somehow managed to get hold of the book, and had destroyed it."

"What! Destroyed? That was your one last chance, and you just failed me the last time! _Avada Kedavra!_"

He was absolutely livid. The old fool had gotten hold of one of his horcruxes! The old fool was old and a fool, but even he would see the importance of the book. His greatest secret was in the open, he had to go to check the hiding places immediately!

Flashes of different objects crossed his mind. The diadem was in the castle, hidden right under the nose of the old fool. There was nothing he could do about that right now, but then not many knew of the existence of the room it was hidden in. The cup was in Bella's vault, the goblins would protect it with their lives. Those stupid creatures. He would show them their place after the ministry was his. The locket in the cave might have been compromised, the Black had thought he could betray him. His death had been a loss, the heir to the Black family and fortune would have been useful ally, but now it too was passed to the Potter. Stupid Walburga had welcomed the blood traitor Sirius back to the family with open arms when he had been thrown in Azkaban and been thought to have murdered all of those muggles.

The ring was hidden under the floor of his mothers house, if you wanted to call that shack a house. He would go retrieve that immediately. And last but not least his beloved Nagini. She was safe here, none of his followers would dare to touch her, and she was more than able to defend herself.

"Clean that filth from the floor," he ordered the Death Eater who was waiting outside the door. "I have business to conduct."

- O -

Harry woke up with a gasp. His scar was aching more than ever after the night when Sirius died. He looked at the time; it was still only a few minutes after midnight, but he really couldn't go straight back to sleep right after such a nightmare. Voldemort seemed to be very angry and maybe even scared that Lucius had lost the diary. Those objects seemed to be very important to him. Harry lighted up his wand, reached for his glasses and searched for some parchment from somewhere. He should write things down now that he still remembered the dream. Or vision. If this information was something Voldemort was afraid of, he would be sure to remember it and make as much use of it as possible.

Harry found a scrap piece of parchment and a quill, and wrote down what he could remember. A diadem, silver, with a huge blue stone - Hogwarts. Locket, gold, with a snake - a cave somewhere. And who was this Black that seemed to be linked in it? Sirius never told him anything about that. Harry wrote 'Black?' next to that note, and moved onwards.

A cup, gold. Engraved with some kind of animal. Maybe a bear, or a badger or a wolverine. Gringotts, Bellatrix' vault. Ring, with a ordinary looking black stone, under the floor in a shack somewhere. And Nagini, snake.

Finally Harry finished his notes with one word: Horcrux. He didn't have the foggiest what that might mean, but he was sure either Daphne or Hermione would know, or at least be able to find out. They were both scarily brilliant.

-o0oOo0o-


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

-o0oOo0o-

"Morning Hermione, Neville," Harry said as he walked down to the common room ruffling his still slightly wet hair. "I'll need to tell you something, but let's first go eat some breakfast and see if I can catch Daphne, too."

"What is it? Did Dumbledore tell you something important last night?"

"What?" Harry asked, having already forgotten the meeting with the Headmaster. "No, it has nothing to do with that. Dumbledore just gave his usual 'you need to forgive, everyone deserves a second chance' speech, and told me he's going to tell me more about Voldemort this year. No, I had another vision last night, and I think it might be important."

"What was it? Was it about another attack?"

"Not now, Hermione," Harry said as the trio walked across the entrance hall towards the Great Hall. "I'll tell you when we get some privacy. You go ahead and keep us seats, I'll go see if Daphne's willing to join us."

Harry peeled of from his friends and went to the Slytherin table, where Daphne was already sitting and conversing with Tracey. Tracey noticed him coming nearer, and Daphne turned to look at who had caught her friend's attention.

"Morning, Daphne," Harry said, kissing his girlfriend briefly on the lips. "Tracey."

"Morning, Harry."

"I have some news to tell, Daphne, do you have time for a quick meeting before any classes?"

"I still haven't got my timetable," she answered. "What sort of news?"

"It's about something that happened yesterday. I'd rather not discuss it here in the Hall."

"Oh. Well, it seems that Snape is coming this way, so I'll know soon."

Harry turned and saw the head of Slytherin house stalking towards them his usual angry scowl etched on his face.

"Potter! What are you doing here disturbing Miss Greengrass?"

"He's not disturbing me, professor," Daphne answered for Harry. "He is here saying me good morning like a good boyfriend should."

Snape turned his eyes to Daphne. "Truly, Miss Greengrass? I would have expected higher standards from my Slytherins. Fraternising with Gryffindors, really?"

"Is that a new policy, professor?" Harry intersected. "Because I remember talking to Remus during summer, and he said there was this one Slytherin boy who was pining for a Gryffindor girl during his whole time at school. Of course the guy was a jerk and got her killed by Voldemort, so maybe there is some merit in the rule. But I'm quite confident that Daphne has no nefarious intentions towards me," Harry said and turned to kiss Daphne on the cheek. "Right, dear?"

Daphne looked at Harry with mirth shining in her eyes. "Well I wouldn't be so sure about that, Potter. I sure do want to have my wicked way with you."

Snape glared at both of them with barely restrained rage. "Here's your schedule, Miss Greengrass. And Potter, don't be late at the class today."

Harry watched as Snape stormed out of the Hall his cloak billowing impressively and younger students hurrying for cover from before him.

"Well, that was intense," Tracey commented. "Would either of you care to comment just what made him that angry?"

Harry saw other students around them making more or less subtle attempts at listening in to his answer.

"Let's just say that the Slytherin boy I mentioned was Snape and the girl was my mother. Snape hasn't quite forgiven me yet that he is a jerk and couldn't compete with my dad."

"What about the getting her killed part?"

"That's a long story, and some of the details are not for public consumption. But our resident Death Eater said some things that should not have been said, and that eventually resulted in my getting this scar," Harry explained. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, sorry. Shouldn't have asked about that."

"It's alright, Tracey, I'm used to people asking about it," Harry assured the other Slytherin. "Well, Daphne, care to cause some more havoc and join me in the Lion's den? I still have to eat and get my own schedule."

"Why not. Lead the way," Daphne said. "See you later, Trace."

"You too, Daph."

- O -

The sixth year marked major change in pace for the students of Hogwarts. After finishing the OWLs no courses were mandatory any more, and subjects like astronomy and herbology were dropped by many. This meant that the even though the amount of work required for each individual class was increasing, there were more free time for independent research, or in Harry's case, plotting for the fall of a Dark Lord. And it just so happened that all four co-conspirators had a free period after breakfast Monday morning.

"What do you think?" Harry asked the others after he had explained his latest vision. They had found an empty meeting room on the second floor, and were sitting around a small table. "From how Voldemort behaved these 'horcruxes' seem to be pretty important. I mean, it was almost as if he was afraid."

"Do we have any way to know if it was a genuine thing and not a fake like the one last June?" Hermione questioned.

"Not that I know, except for looking for these objects to see if they really exist."

"Watching Draco would probably be the best indicator, if his father is really dead," Daphne said. "Other option would be to try and find this crown thing, as you said."

"True. I think we should try to research what horcruxes really are before we do anything. If the diary from second year was one, they can be very dangerous."

"What about Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. "Shouldn't you ask him about the things?"

"I'll give him a change to talk about them. Voldemort was sure that Dumbledore knows what the diary really was, so I'll try to prod him for answers without showing my cards. But I'm not going to volunteer any information to him."

"I understand, Harry," Hermione relented. "But I still think you should work with the headmaster."

"I would, but he insists on playing his own games instead on focusing on the important things. Just look at Snape; the man is a Death Eater and absolutely terrible teacher but still Dumbledore keeps him around as some sort of personal redemption project, despite the damage it does to everything around."

"Speaking of Snape, I think we should get going," Neville interrupted. "His class starts in a few minutes, and I don't really want to be late."

"Alright. Let's meet at the library before dinner, shall we?" Harry replied, and received nods in answer from the others. The four of them gathered their book bags and headed towards the DADA classroom.

- O -

The fifth floor Defence classroom had seem many changes during the years, as each and every professor had changed it to suit his of her style. Snape was no different, and when Harry entered the room he wondered if the door had been a magical portal to the dungeons. All windows were cowered, and even tough the weather outside was brilliant for a Scottish September, the room was lit with torches. And somehow despite the living fire in the room the air was still colder and damper than outside in the hallway.

Snape really had gone his way to make the place as miserable as possible.

Soon after Harry had settled down on a desk halfway down the class (it was a compromise of sitting as far from Snape as possible while still staying next to Hermione) Snape marched in and slammed the door shut with a wave of his wand.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," he started, gesturing at the blackboard where the words had appeared. "So far you have had a collection of pathetic excuses of teachers trying to hammer this delicate subject to you thick skulls, and you have passable knowledge only on dark creatures, possibly because the teacher was one himself!"

Snape leered at Harry at the jibe against Remus.

"But the real danger is not some filthy beasts a competent wizard can terminate with a swish of his wand; no, what you really should be afraid of is what another wizard can do to you with his wand. And that is something you know absolutely nothing about. And that is what I will be focusing on in this course. I of course expect each and every one of you to fail miserably, except maybe some of the Slytherins who have had the power of the Dark Arts shown to them from birth."

"Potter!" the man shouted abruptly. "You were teaching these dunderheads defence last year. Lets see if your pathetic skills are worth anything against a skilled opponent, or if your vaunted 'adventures' have been just luck. We will have a demonstration duel."

Harry was already seeing red. How a man could be such a bastard Harry would never understand. Sure, Snape had been bullied by the Marauders while in school, but he had already got his dad killed and Sirius was also dead. What did he have to gain by trying to torment Harry, too? His position as a double agent was gone anyway, so even that wasn't an excuse any more. Harry silently rose up, palmed his wand and walked to the front of the class where Snape was clearing a narrow strip of floor for the duel.

"Oh, and did I forget to mention that in my classroom every spell shall be cast silently?" the sorry excuse of a man added with a smirk.

Harry didn't say anything, but simply took his place at the one end of the duelling strip, his wand at a ready rest position pointing down to the floor next to him.

"Right," Snape continued, when Harry failed to rise to the taunt. "As this is merely a demonstration duel, me taking Mr. Potter here down with the first spell would be in-conducive to the educational purpose. So, Potter, You can start when you're ready."

Harry looked at the sneering man in front of him, the man who ultimately was the number two most responsible person for all of Harry's misery in the world, and decided to not to pull any punches on him. And while Harry was certain Snape was probably at least at the same skill level as Tonks meaning that in a fair duel between them Snape would have upper hand, the sneer on the man's face told Harry everything he needed to know: the greasy bastard didn't expect Harry to have any skill with silent casting, and would be woefully unprepared for what was going to happen.

Harry started with a feint he had learned from the aurors. It would work only against opponents that underestimated you and were stupid enough to not to consider every spell a threat, but that was exactly what faced Harry at the moment. The spell was an obscure Middle Eastern variant of an explosive curse that had deceptively similar wand movements to the textbook _'stupefy'_, and unless the opponent knew exactly what to look for it would look like a sloppily cast stunner. Harry hammed it up with mouthing the incantation of the stunning spell, and shot the curse deliberately off target, towards the teachers desk to the left from Snape.

The wide smirk on Snape's face as he saw what looked like a pathetic attempt at silent stunner that wasn't even aimed correctly was all the proof Harry needed to know his trap was perfect. As Snape's desk exploded taking all his paperwork with it Harry's wand was already moving on the start of a spell-chain he had stitched together himself. It was a perfect example of why exactly the ministry's policy of blacklisting individual spells instead of trying to find out the intent behind incidents was a bad idea: the actual effect spells of the chain were all from the Black family collection, but even though they were as dark as anything, the ministry knew nothing about them and couldn't add them on their list of Dark Arts.

The chain consisted of a paralysing charm, an asphyxiation spell and a blinding curse tied together by minor schoolbook hexes. All in all it was a powerful non-lethal take-down combination and Snape, being thrown off balance by the unexpectedly exploding desk didn't stand a chance against it but was hit by all of the spells.

Harry quickly bound the professor with conjured ropes and glued him to the wall, before countering the paralysing and blindness curses. He then turned to face the class, who were staring at the events in the front of the classroom mouths agape.

"So, as a quick recap of what we have learned today: never underestimate your opponent, never be an arrogant arse, and never, ever give your opponent the advantage of the first spell. Class dismissed."

Harry summoned his book bag from his desk with a wave of his wand, and started to walk towards the door.

"Oh, and please someone peel the professor off the wall and take him to the infirmary," he added when he noticed Snape giving him a hateful scowl which was somewhat ruined by the 'fish-on-dry-land' impression caused by the asphyxiation curse, while the lack of air in his lungs prevented any sound from escaping his lips. "And don't worry when he passes out: the curse will wear off before he dies. Ten points to whoever does it."

- O -

"Honestly, Harry! Of all the irresponsible things you have done this is the worst. Attacking professor like that, what were you thinking? You will get expelled!"

"No I won't, Hermione. Besides, I already cleared it with Dumbledore, that's where I went right after the 'lesson'. He was disappointed, of course, but when isn't he? And I won't be coming back to the DADA lessons, so that's not an issue either."

"So, what are we looking for?" Neville interrupted before Hermione had time to come up with a reply for Harry. They were in the library, and Madam Pince wouldn't tolerate any arguments there.

"Horcruxes," Harry answered, snapping back from his argument with Hermione, who was still giving him angry looks. "What they are, what they do, and why they are important enough to Voldemort to kill Lucius Malfoy for."

"Do we have anything to base our research on?" Daphne asked.

"Only thing I know is that the diary was one. So anything that fits the description."

"The diary?"

"Second year, the whole Chamber of Secrets episode. It was Voldemort's diary possessing Ginny that caused all that. It was trying to resurrect Voldemort from a memory."

"So cursed objects, possession, memories, necromancy," Daphne summed up. "I guess we'll start with that."

"Sounds good. Oh, and before I forget, I have something for you," Harry said and started digging his book bag and retrieved four small boxes and gave them to the others. Inside were four elegant Swiss watches.

"Remember when we talked about emergency portkeys and some method of communication in the summer? Well, I thought about it and bough and charmed these. It has password activated portkey that will take you to an alley in muggle London near the Leaky Cauldron and a protean charm like the coins we used last year so it heats up if one of us needs to contact the others. I also had Fred and George charm them the same way I used with Sasha, except that Dobby has all four of the counterparts back at home. He can bring them anywhere if we need to talk to each other."

"Oh, it's beautiful. Thank you!" Daphne said, hugging Harry.

"Glad that you like. I thought about jewellery, but I think a watch is more practical, and it's something that's easier to explain having on you all the time. But enough of that, let's get started on the research."

- O -

"This is hopeless," Hermione huffed. By Wednesday afternoon they had already skimmed through most of the relevant parts of the library without as much as a word on horcruxes, and were walking down from the library towards their Charms class. "You really should ask Dumbledore. We know he knows."

"I'm not giving up just yet," Harry said. "If I'm supposed to lead this war, I can't just keep on going to Dumbledore for help. And besides, I'm not going to trust him alone in this; even if I'll eventually have to ask him, I'm still going to check from another source so that I'll know if he's giving me only half-truths. He's done so often enough that I'm not going to trust him unconditionally any more."

"Harry's right, Hermione," Daphne said. "It's not wise to rely on only one source of information. That's one of Dumbledore's biggest failings: he's so certain he knows best he doesn't ask others."

"But where do we get that source? You saw it yourself, the library doesn't have it."

"To be honest, I really didn't expect to find anything outside the restricted section," Harry confessed. "The problem is how to get in there. I guess I could sneak in with my invisibility cloak, but I'd rather not."

"Why don't you just ask for a permission?" Daphne asked. "Isn't that the normal way?"

"How do I do that? I can't really ask about the horcruxes, now can I?"

"No, but after that display with Snape and you dropping DADA lessons it's not that surprising if you want to research Dark Arts in general. You know, to cover for missing lessons," Daphne explained.

"And Slughorn seemed pretty devastated that you didn't come to his class, he would probably give you a pass easily."

"Huh? Slughorn? Why do you think so?"

"You know, I've seen Slughorn with Gran before," Neville said. "He seems to 'collect' famous and influential people, trade favours and introduce people. Gran doesn't like him much, but I guess the Boy-Who-Lived and a Wizengamot Lord would be something he would like to add in his collection."

Harry groaned. "Great, another one only interested in what I am, not who I am. But well, it sounds like the best idea so far. I'll go see him sometime."

"What about Malfoy?" Hermione asked Daphne. "Have you seen anything that would confirm Harry's vision?"

"Not really. But he did receive a letter yesterday evening, and he's been quiet the whole day what I've seen him."

"That letter might have been the news from home," Harry agreed. "I guess we'll have to just watch him and see if he's doing anything differently."

The four of them arrived to the charms classroom, and introduced themselves to the crowd already waiting for the lesson to begin. The discussion ranged from summer holidays to lesson plans, and Harry found himself explaining the fight over the Hogwarts Express yet again. Eventually Flitwick arrived to open the door and the students started to file in. It was then that someone hit Harry from behind.

"Get out of my way, scar-head!" Malfoy snarled.

"What is your problem, Malfoy? I don't see anyone else having trouble fitting in the corridor."

"You are my problem, Potter! You got my father killed, and you are going to pay for it!"

Malfoy stormed in with Crabbe following close behind. Just who had to have been bribed to get the gorilla through his OWLs and to NEWT-level classes was unknown, but still he didn't leave Malfoy's side where ever he went.

"What do you think that was about?" Neville asked when he, Hermione, Daphne and Harry were alone.

"I don't know. On one hand it confirms that Lucius is dead and the vision is probably right, but the accusations go right by me."

"What if the vision was still false? What if Lucius died some other way?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so. Lucius was not among the dead in the battle, and I'm pretty sure I recognized his voice when their leader ordered retreat. Lucius was there and got out unharmed. I really can't think of any way he could have gotten himself killed in the time between that and the vision."

"Well, whatever it is, Draco is even more unstable than usual at the moment," Daphne said. "He has always been too hot-headed for his own good, and if he's hell bent for revenge it's going to boil over."

"I'll get Sasha to guard your bunk during the night," Harry offered. "Just in case. She can try to listen in to the others, too."

"That's good. I can't wait to introduce her to that bitch Parkinson. She's getting to my nerve."

- O -

Later the same evening Harry found himself standing at the door to Slughorn's office. Clearly the office wasn't tied to the subject he taught, as the location on the airy second floor corridor was a polar opposite to that of Snape's dungeon cave. Harry schooled on his best I'm-here-to-impress-you face he had learned from Daphne during the summer and knocked on the door.

The professor replied immediately, and soon enough the door opened showing the old roundish teacher dressed in fine quality robes smiling at Harry.

"Ah, Mister Potter!" he said. "I've been intending to ask you to visit for a while now. Come in, come in."

"Thank you, professor."

The inside of the office showed similar personality as the robes. Everything was nice and orderly, and an elegantly carved table with six chairs around it was clearly waiting for quest to entertain. One wall was filled with old photos of students gathered around similar tables, as well as individual portraits.

"I see you found my little collection, eh?" the professor said. "Been teaching here already in the twenties, I have. I don't want to brag, but I do know more or less everyone worth knowing. Like there, class of -56, Amelia Bones. Bright girl she was, and now the minister! But you know her already, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes sir, I have made acquaintance with her."

"And so humble! You did get her in the office after all, didn't you?"

"Well, there were others who did most of the work, but I had my hand in it," Harry admitted.

"True, true. Why do it all yourself, when you can get others to help, right? Well, what can I do for you?"

"Have you heard about my defence lesson on Monday?" Harry asked back.

"Ah, yes! Such talent! Not many can say they have beaten their professor while still in school, and Severus is very competent with his wand. He was of course furious when it came up in the meeting, but I think it was poor sportsmanship from his part. I'm afraid his skills with people were never too good."

"Yes, it was Snape's lessons that soured potions for me. I'm sure you are a lot better teacher than he is, but I'm not interested at the moment."

Slughorn looked thoughtful. "It's sad how poor experiences in the classroom can turn down great talent. I can easily see how having Severus as a teacher would create negative associations for the art altogether. Awfully skilled with his cauldron, yes, but not the most pleasant personality. It's a pity I can't get a chance to see how well you can brew, but I'm sure we can create a fruitful relationship outside of classroom, yes?"

"Yes, that sounds good," Harry answered, and the professor's smile grew bigger. "And I did come here to ask for a favour. You see, after I dropped out of the defence class I've been doing some individual research in the library. But the thing is, the really good volumes on the Dark Arts seem to be in the restricted section, and I wondered if you could give me a pass there. Normally I would go ask the defence professor, but you understand that my relationship with professor Snape isn't the best at the moment."

"Ah, yes, yes. I'm sure I can get you what you need," Slughorn said and walked to his desk. "Now where did I put those slips... ah, there they are. Take one for your lady friend, too. Miss Greengrass, right? Her father did get in to the Wizengamot last spring if I remember correctly."

"That's right. And thank you for these, professor. I'm sure it'll help me a lot."

"Don't worry, m'boy. It's not like it was too much trouble for me."

"Well, I think I have taken enough of your time, professor. Thank you once again."

"No, no, it was my pleasure. And, Mr. Potter, I've been planning to arrange a little get together, to get to know the students better. I hope you can attend."

Harry shrugged slightly. "Why not. I'm sure I can arrange time for that without much problems."

"Splendid! We'll see then!"

"See you too, professor."

- O -

Harry's first private lesson with Dumbledore was scheduled on the first weekend of the term. Harry wasn't quite sure what to expect, but decided to give the old headmaster at least a chance to make himself useful.

The research in the restricted section had not yet resulted in anything, but they hadn't had too much time to read through old tomes as the amount of homework was starting to go up after the first week of the term. Hermione, Daphne and Neville were currently studying in the library, and Harry hoped that they would find something, as he really didn't believe Dumbledore would volunteer any information on the subject.

The gargoyle stepped aside when Harry said the password, and he rode the revolving staircase up to the Headmaster's door.

"Come in!", Dumbledore called before Harry had time to knock on the door, and he stepped in.

Immediately when Harry entered the room he noticed that Dumbledore's left hand had shivered and blackened. His eyes almost dropped out of his head when he noticed a familiar looking ring with a black stone in the same hand.

"Hello, headmaster," he said.

"Ah, Harry my boy! I have prepared some memories for us to view today, they are about Voldemort's family and his early days. But is there anything you wanted to ask before we dive in?"

Harry was somewhat hesitant, but decided to test if the headmaster was really going to answer his questions completely and truthfully.

"Sir, what's happened to your hand?" he asked.

Dumbledore glanced at the blackened appendage, as if he had forgotten the state of it.

"Ah, this?" he asked. "It's just something I picked up during the summer. Old age doesn't come alone, I'm afraid. I am no longer as fast as I used to be. But that's nothing you need to worry about. I usually keep a glamour on it to not to worry others, but it seems to have worn off."

"Oh," Harry answered, disappointed at Dumbledore's lack of real response. "Well, let's do this, then," he said, gesturing towards the pensieve.

The next couple of hours were spent looking at different memories on Voldemort's family before he was even born (pureblood bigots worse than Malfoy), his introduction to the magical world by Dumbledore at the orphanage he lived in and his first impressions at Hogwarts. It was a completely baffled and frustrated Harry that emerged from the pensieve.

"Well, Harry, what did you learn from that?"

"That Voldemort was a sick fuck already as a kid. Sir, I really can't see the point of all this. Why is it important for me to see what he did at school?"

"Ah, but you must understand that even I don't know everything, even though I admit knowing more that most. These memories are mostly unknown territory for me, too, and a learning experience for both of us."

Harry regarded the headmaster for a good while, and the older man looked back.

"Sir, I know you are not telling me everything you know, and frankly, I find it really frustrating," he said. "I don't think you need to schedule new meetings if this is the content of them. I don't believe I can help you with the memories, so you can view them on your own discretion and send me the memo when your done. I will spend my time getting ready to actually confront Voldemort and being with my girlfriend."

Harry stood up and started to move towards the door, when he got an idea.

"Oh, and I would be thankful if you could recommend me a good source on horcruxes, professor," he said. "I already got a pass to the restricted section from professor Slughorn, but it would help in my research if you could point me to right direction."

This time it was Dumbledore's turn to gawk at Harry, though he hid his shock well.

"Horcruxes? How do you know about them?"

"It's just something I picked up during the summer, nothing you need to worry about. You can add the information on the memo."

- O -

"—And that was the last of the memories," Harry ended his recounting on the 'lesson' with Dumbledore he had had when he found the others in the library, doing research.

"What was he thinking?" Hermione said, dumbfounded. "There you have a child with obviously violent tendencies, and he demonstrated magic by setting his wardrobe on fire? Talk about first impressions. When Professor McGonagall came to my home she showed her animagus transformation, levitated furniture and conjured some flowers."

"Well, yeah. I really don't know what the man is thinking, and apparently it's not just something that's caused by old age. But I did throw him a bone and mentioned the horcruxes. I asked for a good source on the subject, we'll see if he responds in any way. Oh, and he had the ring in his finger. Apparently they are pretty well protected; he didn't confirm it, but it seems the ring has caused his whole had to shrivel up and blacken. We'll need to be very careful if we go searching for the rest of them."

Hermione looked at Daphne, her face serious.

"I think we'll have to," Daphne said. "We found a reference, nothing much mind you, but apparently the horcruxes are some sort of immortality devices. The soul doesn't leave the earth as long as the horcrux exists."

There was a silence.

"Damn," Harry said. "And Voldemort knows that Dumbledore's looking for them. And now that the ring is also missing from it's hiding place, chances are he's going to hide the rest better than ever."

"Yes. The crown thing is here in Hogwarts and I seriously doubt Voldemort's going to try and infiltrate the castle just to get it out, and I don't know if Bellatrix can walk to Gringott's through the auror guards in the Alley. But the locket is something that he can hide again. The snake was always going to be a problem, but it's probably where Voldemort is himself."

"I guess we'll have to try and find the cave, then," Harry agreed. "That's going to tell us how impossible the rest of the mission is going to be."

"You think we could get Remus searching it for us?" he added after a small pause.

"I was actually going to suggest him myself," Hermione said. "He's loyal to you, and he doesn't have a steady job so he can spend enough time travelling the coast spelunking. And he knows how to take care of himself."

"True. I'll write him a letter immediately, and then I can go see him and explain the situation. And we'll need to start searching the castle for the crown, and thinking how to get the cup out of the bank."

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: It has been brought to my attention that despite my best effort and spell-checkers my language is far from perfect. So, even though it goes against my impatient nature, I have decided to try to get myself a beta-reader. Instead of asking by random I thought it was better to give first dibs to people who actually read and enjoy my story. So consider yourself asked.

Spelling, grammar, prepositions and other details are the primary concern, but any input on the structure of the chapters and direction of the story will also be highly appreciated (I will of course make the existing outline available to any volunteers).

Also huge thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed my story, feedback is always a nice thing to have.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

-o0oOo0o-

"Mr. Potter, please stay for a while," professor McGonagall said when the transfiguration lesson had ended and the students were starting to file out of the room. Harry gathered his books and shrugged at the inquisitive looks from Daphne and Hermione. He didn't have a clue what the professor wanted with him,

"I'll wait outside," Daphne said, and left Harry alone with the professor.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall started. "Have you already thought about the upcoming quidditch try-outs? I have become quite accustomed to seeing the cup in my office."

"Err... Excuse me, professor, but how does that involve me? Besides the obvious, of course?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious that you would be the captain this year. Thus, it would be your responsibility to arrange the try-outs. We do need to build the team from more or less scratch after all."

"Me? Captain? But what about Katie?"

"Miss Bell has expressed her wishes to concentrate on her NEWT-studies. And truthfully, you are the leader of the students here even if you don't hold any official position."

"I— it's an honour, of course, but... I mean... I really don't think I can accept this offer, professor."

McGonagall frowned. "And why is that, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, I do have quite a lot on my plate at the moment. I'm going to restart the DA next weekend, I'm doing my DADA practicals outside the castle with the aurors, I have to... err... do an independent research project for defence. And then there's the Wizengamot.

"And frankly, I don't think the seeker is the best position for the captain. I should focus more on, you know, seeking," Harry finished his reasoning.

"Who then is going to be the captain if you won't? Mr. Weasley has been in the team for only one year, and the others for only one game."

"Truthfully, I think Ron has the ability to be a great captain. He knows more about the game than I knew was possible, and keeper is a great position for the captain. And I also know that being the quidditch captain is one of his greatest desires, so he would probably put honest effort on it."

"I'm not sure if his grades or performance as a prefect really warrants being the captain. But if there's no other choice, then so be it. But please, Mr. Potter, do try your best to win the cup for us."

"Of course, professor. Always."

- O -

"Well, what was it?" Daphne asked when Harry exited the classroom. She took his hand as they started walking towards the library, where Hermione was already waiting.

"She just wanted to ask me to be the Gryffindor quidditch captain this year."

"And?"

"And I said no. I really have enough to worry about without adding the responsibility to whipping a winning team out of players with no experience. And with everything else going on around us I really don't see the importance of the school quidditch cup the same way I did in the third year."

"You don't need to explain that to me, Harry," Daphne said. "I know what you'll have to do."

"Sorry," Harry said, looking a bit sheepish. "McGonagall needed some convincing, though. She's quite fanatic about quidditch, you know."

"I have noticed," Daphne answered dryly.

The two climbed up a set of stairs, past the painting guarding the junction between the main main passageway from the Great Hall and the corridor to the library. The sun was shining low over the forest warming the early autumn air that would soon be replaced by the cold gale from Northern Atlantic and the grey dampness of Scottish winter, and Harry hoped the good weather would stay until at least the start of the quidditch season in early November. Not that it was too probable.

"What's the status on the 'treasure hunt'?" Daphne asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Remus replied to my letter, We'll meet at the ministry after my session with the aurors tomorrow. But he should be okay with it, he's a good guy."

"And the other parts?"

"Well, I for one have no idea how we could get the cup out of the bank, and the snake was always going to be a problem. But I think we should start searching the castle for the last piece."

"Any ideas where to start?"

"I'd say the Chamber is the obvious first guess. After that, I think we should go through the more remote parts of the castle with the map."

"The Chamber?"

"Chamber of Secrets. It seems like just the place where Voldemort would hide something like this, and the security was already amazing with the parseltongue password and the basilisk."

"Oh, right, that chamber. When are we going down there? I have to say I'm very interested in seeing it. It's not everyday you get to explore a chamber that hasn't been visited by almost anyone for a thousand years. Who knows what all there might be."

"I don't know. I didn't exactly have time to look closer last time. As to when, I think next week at soonest. There's a lot of things I have to do, and we really should reserve enough time to properly search the place."

"In that case we might as well do our homework now," Daphne said. "But you should also remember that you are my boyfriend now, and that means you have duties that go before the other things." she finished, moulding herself even closer to Harry's side as they stepped into the library.

- O -

Friday afternoon a beaten and patched up but still cheerful Harry walked across the ministry atrium to meet Remus as they had arranged through letters. His first training session with the aurors after summer had went great, and Harry's team of cadets had managed to beat the instructors with a sneaky flanking move to their rear. The instructors hadn't been too amused by that, and had pushed them harder than ever. But that was just what Harry wanted.

"Hi Moony!" he greeted the werewolf who was waiting by the fireplaces.

"Hi Harry! What's happened to you?" Remus asked eyeing curiously the slight limp in Harry's step.

"Oh, nothing much. Some training with the aurors."

"And they beat you up?"

"Well, more like I beat them. They just didn't take their defeat too well."

Remus laughed at Harry. "Just like James when he was doing the same thing with Sirius. Those two would always come up with something to beat their teachers, and then get more of the same for themselves. But it's good to see that you're happy."

"Yeah, the instructors are great. Tough, but fair. And the training is intensive, but a lot better than what Snape could ever come up with."

Remus hummed his agreement.

"Well, what did you want to talk about? It sounded like very important and top secret," he asked.

"It is, but let's first get to somewhere more private," Harry answered, and took a length of rope out of his pocket and made it a portkey. "Take a hold, we'll talk at my place."

- O -

Remus rolled the neck of a butterbeer bottle between his fingers, his mind going through the conversation he had just had. Harry had explained his vision and the search they had done in the Hogwarts library, and he was still shaken at the concept of a genuinely immortal Dark Lord. He couldn't help but feel anger at the uselessness of all the fighting and dying they had done in the first war, and determination to do what was necessary to find and destroy the horcruxes.

"I'll do it," he said. "I'll go searching for the cave. And you don't need to pay me anything, I'm used to roughing it. Little outside air is going to do only good for me."

"At least get yourself the best equipment available," Harry countered, knowing that there was no way he could convince the werewolf to accept money for the job. "There's no knowing how long it'll take, and I want you in top condition when you go looking for the locket. I don't want you to die just because you hadn't slept enough when you walked into Voldemort's trap or didn't have the right tools. And when you find the cave, don't try anything alone. We'll get someone to help you go through whatever protections there might be. Dumbledore went alone, and he was poisoned and pretty much lost his hand."

"Alright, alright. But I'm not exactly inexperienced in Dark Arts, kiddo. Remember, I was your professor."

"I do remember, and I do trust you. But you're the only uncle I have left," Harry said.

"And you need to take better care of Tonks too," he added. "She was moaning again that you are too focused on your beast-problem to notice other people."

Remus' eyes widened. "She said what?"

- O -

After dinner Harry was once again riding up the stairs to Dumbledore's office. McGonagall had cornered him immediately after his arrival back to the castle with orders to appear in front of the headmaster the same evening.

Harry sighed at the thought of confronting the old man yet again. Experience didn't exactly make Harry bounce with anticipation, but one could always hope.

"Please come in, Harry," the voice of the headmaster called when Harry arrived in front of the door. "Please sit down. Lemon drop?"

"No thank you," Harry answered, sitting down on the offered chair.

Dumbledore regarded Harry for a long while, looking over his half moon spectacles.

"Last time we saw you asked about horcruxes," he started slowly. "I have to admit that you took me by surprise with that question, and I couldn't adequately satisfy your curiosity back then. But I have since thought about your request, and have prepared a memory for you to see."

"A memory, sir?" Harry asked. "Didn't I make my opinion about memories clear enough last time? What is it about?"

"Please, Harry, try to bear with an old man's habits. I assure you that this is perhaps the most important clue I have on the subject."

Harry sighed with resignation and nodded, rising up from his chair and walked the the pensieve Dumbledore gestured towards. He reached to the surface of the memories and immediately found himself in the office of professor Slughorn, where a much younger looking Horace was meeting with a Slytherin Head Boy.

"Ah, Tom m'boy! What can I do for you?" the memory of the professor asked the student, who Harry now recognized as the schoolboy version of Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort. The memory seemed somewhat scrambled, but the gist of it was Riddle asking if it was possible to make multiple horcruxes, and somewhat nervous looking Slughorn dodging the question. It all was purely hypothetical, of course.

The memory ended, and Harry was back in Dumbledore's office with the ancient headmaster.

"What was that?" he asked. "How is that supposed to help me?"

"Ah, Harry, that was the most important clue of them all. It tells' us that Riddle made multiple Horcruxes and hinted at the number."

"But there was nothing new in that memory. I already knew all of that, well, except for Slughorn's involvement."

"Yes, but the important part isn't what was in the memory, but what was not. I believe Horace intentionally modified the memory to leave the number of horcruxes Riddle was considering out of it. And that, Harry, is your homework today. I need you to get the full memory from professor Slughorn. I hear the two of you have created quite the relationship already, although it might be better if we enrolled you to his potions class."

Harry stared at the headmaster not believing what he was hearing.

"So you have a professor who's deliberately withholding an important piece of information, and instead of beating it out of him you want me to use my fame and position to bribe him, going as far as wasting my time on a class I have no wish to take?"

"Harry, violence is never the best solution," Dumbledore answered in a disappointed tone. "And I am sure potions wouldn't be a waste of your time."

"No."

"No? But Harry, the outcome of the entire war depends on the answer. We need to know how many horcruxes he made so that we can destroy them all. Surely you understand the importance of this?"

"No. Slughorn has known of the horcruxes for half a century now, and done nothing. I will not suck up on that man. And I don't need to, either. I know that Voldemort made six horcruxes: I destroyed one on my second year, you have one in your finger," Harry looked pointedly at Dumbledore's left hand that was again looking perfectly healthy, "—and I asked Remus to look for the third before I came back to the castle today. We'll search the Chamber of Secrets for the fourth hopefully next week, and the fifth is in Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts. The last one is Voldemort's snake."

Dumbledore looked wide-eyed as Harry listed the horcruxes only to get agitated at the mention of Remus.

"You told Mr. Lupin? Are you sure that was a good idea? It's imperative that the knowledge of our search for them does not reach Voldemort. That could ruin everything."

"I told him and I have told Daphne, Hermione and Neville, too. I told Remus to tell Tonks. Don't you trust even your own order? Is it because Remus is a 'Dark Creature'? And besides, Voldemort knows you know. Lucius Malfoy lost his life for displacing the diary."

"How do you know these things?"

"I have my sources as you have yours," Harry answered, rising up from his chair. "I'll leave now, professor. I had quite an intensive training today and I need to rest. You can contact Remus for more details, and if you come up with a way to get the horcrux out of the bank, please let me know.

"Good night, professor."

- O -

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Defence Association of the year!" Harry greeted the students that had gathered outside. It was Saturday afternoon, and a large crowd of people were standing gathered around Harry near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"For those of you who are here for the first time, Defence Association was formed last year to remedy the lack of teaching from Umbridge's part, and because it was such a success, we have decided to continue this year, too.

"But, as Professor Snape, despite his less than cheery personality, is capable of teaching the spells, the D.A. will focus more on the practical side of using them. What we will be doing is based on my experiences from the summer, as well as some of the training exercises the aurors do when they are not on the field.

"This," Harry gestured behind him, where a large circle that disappeared partly inside the forest was marked in the ground. In the middle of the circle was a simple, medium sized one story house with bare holes for windows, surrounded by what looked like a pretty normal yard with a fence, a few bushes and a small shed. "- is the arena. We will be working on the typical defensive situation, where a group of attackers are approaching a home where a smaller group of defenders will be waiting. The objective of this exercise is to train situational awareness, use of terrain and teamwork. Knowing more spells than Merlin won't help you if the enemy ambushes you and hits you in the back with a textbook stunner. Or an explosive curse."

"Where's the honour in that!" shouted someone from the crowd. A Gryffindor, Harry though.

"There's no honour in a fight!" Harry raised his voice. "In a fight there are only those who walk away, and those who don't. I am not suggesting you to go seek for fights, but if you end up in one, do not hesitate to use whatever means necessary to be one of those who walk away. Retreating to a safe place before a fight even starts is in most situations the best way to ensure that."

Harry took a short pause to let that sink into the peoples minds.

"Fighting is not duelling," He continued. "Duelling is all about giving equal opportunities to both parties. The problem with that is that the Death Eaters are not going to duel with the same rules as you do. They use the unforgivable curses and other Dark Arts, and that gives them an edge over you, spell by spell. You will not want to let the fight become a duel."

"Why should we give them the advantage of the Dark Arts? Wouldn't it be better to fight fire with fire?" someone shouted from the crowd. There were a mix of agreeing murmurs and shouts of indignation over the suggestion.

"It's not that simple. You can't just point your wand and say the words. Many of the dark curses require a state of mind and clear intent none of you have. You would need to enjoy the pain of your enemies, you'd need to really want them to die. For some of the curses you need to be a real sick bastard for them to work. I don't want you to be sick bastards.

"No. We will fight by exploiting their weaknesses instead of trying to match their strengths. Most of the Death Eaters are arrogant arses and not really all that bright. They have learned the traditional duelling and don't move around a lot. Their masks limit their vision, and they tend to stay in one place throwing unforgivables on you, counting on the fear factor to keep you from retaliating. If you can use the surroundings and sneak behind them, you can take them out with relative ease. That's what we'll practice here."

Harry looked at the gathered students, and saw a lot of thoughtful faces and agreeing nodding. A lot of the students knew personally someone who had been attacked during summer, or at least had friends who did. Harry's words did make sense to them.

"To make things interesting for you," Harry continued, "we will make this into a competition of sorts. You will form teams of four, and the 'battles' will be one team defending against two attacking teams. Your performance will be scored, and at the end of the term the winners will receive some sort of prize. I have managed to get the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to sponsor us, so the prize will most likely be a gift certificate to their store. Madam Pomfrey has also agreed to supervise the battles, and she will also give lessons on basic first aid."

There was a lot of excited chatter, and Harry raised his hands to ask for silence. "Next week we'll have the first round of battles and work out the schedule, so you'll have a week to form the teams and come up with strategies. And let's take a leaf out of the Sorting Hat's book and say that each team should have members from at least two houses. Should be more interesting that way. So, until next time!"

- O -

"What do you think?" Harry asked Daphne as the people started to file back in, chatting with friends and eyeing the students of other houses with new interest.

"I think it's brilliant," she answered. "Your points were valid, and the way you made it into a team based thing means you don't have to teach them so much, the teams will teach each other. And you're right about Snape too: he can teach the theory well enough, but there's no place where you learn to actually use the spells."

"So, how about our team? Hermione, Neville?"

Hermione agreed readily, but Neville blushed slightly.

"I kind of promised Hannah that I'd be with her and Susan," he said. "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry, mate. You'll do great with them. You have someone, Daphne?"

"Well, I could always ask Tracey. She isn't too interested in defence, but I think she might come if I asked. Especially with Pomfrey teaching healing"

"You do that, and we'll have a team."

"I'll ask her tomorrow. Today, you'll serve me a dinner in the Room of Requirement."

"I will? Oh yes, of course I will."

- O -

The next week school started to fall into a routine for Harry and friends. Days were filled with classes and homework, and Harry discovered that Ancient Runes and Arithmancy really were as hard as rumoured. Even though the third year material wasn't exactly overly difficult for a sixth year student, the fact that the course aimed at covering three years of material in two meant that there was a lot of work to do. But Harry found out that the deeper understanding of the fundamental principles behind magic really helped him a lot also in other subjects and spell-casting.

Quidditch try-outs for the Gryffindor team had also been organized, and beside a seventh year named Cormac McLaggen boasting to take the seeker position from Harry and failing spectacularly there wasn't really any surprises involved. Ginny and Katie were joined by a fourth year Demelza Robins as third chaser, while the beater positions were taken by third years Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote. Harry was glad to see that Ron was more than competent as a captain — if a touch zealous — and didn't feel bad for turning down the offer for the position. In fact he was sure that he could never have been able to determine the strengths and weaknesses of the candidates as well as Ron did.

Harry's visits to the Auror training facility continued. The war time accelerated training programme emphasised combat at the cost of advanced forensic methods, and the training he received alongside the cadets was amazingly efficient. The spirits were high, and even though Voldemort hadn't made any moves after the attack on the Hogwarts Express the importance of what they were doing showed in the motivation of the troops.

On Thursday Harry was walking towards the Room of Requirement with Hermione.

"Would you please tell me already what it is we need to come here for?" she asked for eleventh time since they had left the common room where Harry had been waiting for her to come back from her potions class. "I have to do my homework, and there's a new concept of runes we'll cover next class and I'll need to read up on it before."

"Relax, Hermione. I'm sure you'll be more prepared than anyone else. You always are. This isn't a nefarious plot to hinder your academic ambitions."

Hermione looked sheepish when they finally arrived to the seventh floor corridor with the painting of Barnabas the Barmy, where a door was already waiting for them. Harry opened the door and held it open for Hermione.

"After you, my lady," he said gesturing with his hand.

Hermione frowned at her friends antics but entered nonetheless.

"Happy birthday!" a chorus of voices shouted when she crossed the threshold of the room.

Inside Daphne, Neville, Susan, Hannah and Luna were standing around a table that held a magnificent looking cake. Harry wasn't sure how Luna had ended up participating as he couldn't remember inviting her, but that was quickly forgotten when Hermione turned around to face him.

"You! Why didn't you tell me?"

"And ruin the surprise? Never."

"But I'm still dressed in the ordinary clothes, and my hair is a real mess..."

At this point Susan came forward to save Harry from Hermione's tirade.

"Happy birthday, Hermione! It's completely okay, it was a surprise for us too. I couldn't even get a present for you. But it's not everyday you turn seventeen and become an adult. I believe you're the first one on our year, if you don't count _Lord__Potter_ here and his special circumstances."

"How come it could have been a surprise?" Luna asked, coming forward with a small packet wrapped in ludicrously colourful paper. "Hermione's birthday has always been September the 19th."

The blonde Ravenclaw handed the packet to Hermione. "I first thought of giving you a nargle-repellent necklace like mine, but then I realized that you actually want to have them around as you keep your hair bushy for them to nest in, so I made you a regular one."

Hermione was torn between gawking at the odd girl, trying to subtly flatten her hair and resisting the urge to explain that nargles didn't exist, but in the end the she ended up tearing into the packet with childlike enthusiasm.

The necklace was surprisingly normal for something made by Luna. That was before you looked closer, and saw that each of the small, colourful pieces of stone the piece of jewellery was made of had been magically carved to have tiny relieves of various more or less mythological creatures.

"It's beautiful," Hermione said as she carefully inspected one of the stones that had pictured some kind of bizarre amalgamation of squirrel, beaver and a unicorn.

"Now I think it's time to open mine," Harry said, handing out a small flat package to Hermione, who immediately tore the wrappings off.

"A mirror?" she asked, holding what looked like a completely ordinary, small hand mirror.

"Yep. I managed to track down another pair of communication mirrors like the ones Sirius gave me. I know how hard it's been for you to not to be able to keep on contact with your parents, so I sent them the other one. They should be calling you any minute now."

Right on cue a female voice called from the mirror. "Hermione?"

"Oh thank you, thank you!" Hermione squealed, launching herself around Harry's neck and crushing him on a tight hug and kissing him on the cheek. Harry hugged her back, looking somewhat awkwardly over her shoulder at Daphne, who was smirking devilishly.

"It's alright, Harry. But you better come up with something at least as good for my birthday," the Slytherin girl said, bringing Hermione back from her enthusiastic thanks.

"I think your mother is starting to get worried," Harry said to Hermione, redirecting her attention back to the mirror where her mother was indeed still calling for her.

The rest of the evening went by in a joyful banter and fun, giving everyone a welcome change from the seriousness of school work and for Harry and his closest friends the seriousness of the horcrux situation and training. The cake provided by Dobby was delicious, and the elf was more than pleased to bring drinks and snacks to the group of friends. The fact that they had classes the next day prevented the drinking of anything stronger than butterbeer, but it was still every way enjoyable event.

- O -

"I still can't believe the entrance to Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets is in a girls' bathroom," Daphne said as she warded the door against intrusion. "I mean, I get the whole hiding in plain sight thing, but this is just stupid."

"I don't think this is _the_ entrance, just one of them," Harry answered, testing the knot on the magical rope ladder he had bought from a shop in Diagon Alley that sold different kinds of camping and mountaineering equipment. It could extend indefinitely, and had all sorts of charms in it to make ascending and descending easier. The pipes were too steep and dark for broomsticks, and Hermione had flat out refused when Harry had suggested flying them down.

"I remember there were a lot of connecting pipes to this one, and I heard the basilisk hissing everywhere in the school. And what kind of password is 'open' anyway? I'd say this one and others like this are meant only for the basilisk, and there's a real entrance somewhere else. Maybe it's walled shut permanently, I don't know, but this one certainly lacks the dignity needed for a important wizard."

"But this is the only one we know of, so let's get climbing." Hermione said. She had charmed them headlamps like those used by miners using her signature bluebell flames. "The pipe looks filthy, and I for one can't wait to get to the prefects' bathroom to clean myself up after we're done here."

The descent down the pipe went silently and without much trouble, except for slight stumbling by Neville. Down in the chamber the first thing Harry noticed was that he had completely forgotten the cave-in caused by Lockhart's failed spell.

"Right. This was here," he said. "Any ideas on how we should deal with this?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione huffed and drew her wand. "Are you a wizard or not?"

With a few precise swishes of her wand and a couple of carefully pronounced incantations Hermione made the the stones fluidly flow into each other, transforming into a low archway with vaulted roof.

"And how was I supposed to know how to do that?" Harry asked, looking with awe with the others as Hermione put finishing touches to her work.

"Don't you ever study forward? I have known how to do that ever since I first saw the entrance to the Diagon Alley. I wouldn't have been able to actually do it before last year, mind you, but still. It was one of the first things I looked up."

"Right. Well, I'm certainly glad you knew, but it's not like every one of us could be geniuses. What would we need you for, if we were?" Harry joked.

Hermione didn't say anything as the walked further into the chamber. A short word in parseltongue later they were in, staring at the remains of the huge snake, not believing their eyes.

"Merlin," Daphne said, finding her tongue first. "I know you said it was big, but that thing is absolutely monstrous."

"Yeah. But to be honest, I thought it was bigger. Must have put some height since then."

The skeleton of the snake was still surrounded by large patches of the incredibly tough hide and scales, and the empty eye sockets of the beast were staring at them menacingly. The long fangs, save for one, were still attached to the jaws, and the enormous dead coils of the monster snaked all around the far end of the chamber.

"Do you think there's still anything useful in that thing?" Harry asked, looking down at the ground where a loose fang was still laying beside a dark patch of ink. "Stabbing the diary with the fang was pretty efficient in killing it. I got the impression that it was otherwise quite indestructible."

"Well, basilisk venom is one of the more powerful substances in the world, so it would make sense that it would be one of the few things to destruct otherwise indestructible things," Hermione started in her lecture voice, still a bit dazed. "We do of course need to study if horcruxes in general are tough to destroy, or if it was only the diary, and we need to be very careful when looking for any remaining venom. It is said that only the tiniest drop of it can kill a wizard in most painful way..." Hermione trailed off.

"Merlin! You were bitten by that thing!" she cried, throwing herself around Harry. "You should have died!"

"Shh," Harry said, hugging her back awkwardly. "I survived, it's nothing. And it's not like that was the first time I should have died. They say that for killing curses and trolls too. I think I might be immune to death," he joked.

"Don't joke about that!" Hermione said, swatting him in the arm, but managed to smile at Harry's antics.

"Alright, enough of that," Daphne said, taking the lead. "We have a job to do here. Didn't you say the snake came out of the statue? I'd say that's as good a place to start as any, or do you have other ideas?"

No one did, and a parseltongue pass phrase later the four friends climbed into the gaping maw of the statue. Harry was a little worried that it might close on them without a way back out, but as it seemed to stay open just fine as they walked deeper into the dark depths of the chamber.

A hundred or so feet later the tunnel widened up into a huge circular cavern that was obviously the lair of the basilisk. In the flickering light of their improvised lamps they saw multiple dark openings heading into the bedrock, while the ground was littered with bones and even more shed skin accumulated during centuries.

"Well, it seems we were right in thinking this might take some time," Harry said, observing the nearest tunnel that went on beyond the limited range of his light. "I say we should pair up and start searching. And be careful to not to get lost, and don't trip any traps. We have no idea what's in here."

- O -

After hours of searching Harry and Daphne started to get tired. There seemed to be miles of tunnels criss-crossing the area, some heading back up to the castle, others towards the forest or even the lake. They painstakingly cast detection charms left, right, floor and ceiling before every step, and at every junction they carefully marked the way back with white paint on the wall. They had encountered multitude of chambers with decayed furniture, tunnels too low to comfortably walk in, cave-ins and sections that had been flooded by water. More than once they had appeared back where they had been before, and more than once they could have sworn that they had walked upwards more than enough for that to be impossible.

Finally, relatively close to the lair of the basilisk they found a door that was in a lot better condition than anything they had met earlier. It was made of sturdy oak with wrought iron reinforcements, and was decorated by an intricate Celtic design of snakes interwoven together.

Even though the door practically screamed magic, the detection charms didn't pick anything harmful, and the door opened with an ease belying it's clearly old age.

"Jackpot," Harry said, stopping at the door to carefully look at the room inside.

The room was a comfortably sized study with a large desk and walls covered with bookshelves filled to the brim. The amount of dust and the modern bound notebooks on the desk told clearly that this had been a secret hideout for Riddle fifty years earlier, and even though many of the books around had already crumbled to dust Harry could tell it was still absolutely priceless find in historic value alone.

When detection charms failed to find any hiding places for the horcrux, Harry turned his attention to the bookshelves. He drew his finger along the titles of the volumes, unable to understand the names written in Latin. Finally a familiar coat of arms signifying the owner of the book caught his eye.

"Hey, Daphne, what does 'Magia Malefica' mean in English?"

"Hmm?" she answered, disturbed from her own browsing. "Let me see."

"Here. It's written by Godric Gryffindor."

"Well, the literal translation is evil or bad magic, so basically Dark Arts. There's the subtitle that means roughly 'curses to destroy your enemies'. It's a spellbook."

"A Dark Arts spellbook by Gryffindor? Wasn't he a light wizard?"

Daphne snorted.

"Please," she said. "He lived a thousand years ago. The moral codes of the society were different from what they are today. And I'm not surprised, really. Actually it makes sense: it's not like he is known for his sword because he was a humanitarian."

"Right. It's just, you know, everyone thinks it was Slytherin who was into Dark Arts."

"He might have been. He has Gryffindor's book about it in his personal collection, after all. But I think it's stupid to think of him as some sort of Dark Lord. Education business isn't really what you would expect a Dark Lord to do."

"Huh, that's certainly true. You think there might be anything useful in these books?"

"Probably not. It's not like much magic has been forgotten, and there's even more that's been invented after the founders' time. For example potions making has seen huge improvements in the last few centuries with all the new ingredients from Americas and and elsewhere. There might be some interesting rituals here, but mostly all this has only historic value."

"You're probably right. I always thought it was a little silly how people were raging about the founders being so much greater wizards than anything after. In relative terms, maybe, but it's not like there hasn't been any advancement in thousands years."

Harry walked to the desk and picked one of the notebooks and dusted the cover. Inside were Riddle's notes on his search for immortality, including his theory on the optimal number of horcruxes.

"I don't think we're going to find the horcrux here," Harry sighed. "Riddle wouldn't have left his notes here if he had visited later. In fact it's pretty strange he has left these here in the first place."

"I guess Myrtle staying behind as a ghost and choosing to haunt the entrance must have been an unfortunate surprise for him," Daphne said, picking another notebook from the pile. "He probably wasn't able to return down here after her death."

"Myrtle! Of course! We should have asked her if she had seen Voldemort coming down here. That would have saved us so much time."

"Well, what's done is done. Besides, I think I found us a new lead: these are his notes from when he was searching for the Chamber. It seems that Riddle too found the Room of Requirement in his fifth year."

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: many thanks to my beta-reader Trall and everyone who has read, reviewed and marked my story as a favourite. Knowing that people actually enjoy my writings really makes it worth the effort.

ps. Chapter 16 should come out in a more timely fashion...


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

-o0oOo0o-

On the second weekend of October the Defence Association were having their third actual round of battles. The competition was proving to be a huge success: nine teams of four had turned up on the first round, and the battles were the hot topic of the day in the castle. Numerous spectators were milling around the battlefield and a lot of people had been interested in the first aid healing classes by Madam Pomfrey. In the end Harry had had to ask the house elves to construct stands not unlike in the Quidditch pitch around the arena to better facilitate the viewers.

Right now Harry was crouching behind a low wall facing the backside of the target building waiting for the signal that would signify the start of the battle. He had disillusioned himself as had the others in his team, but he didn't really expect it to do him any good: coming up with counters to the spell had been the first thing the Association had done after Harry had ghosted out from the defensive positions in the first demonstration battle and decimated the attackers. The next week every member had already known of a spell that allowed one to see through disillusionment, and Harry was sure the team he was currently against would use it to the full effect. But the spell did give the user a bit of a headache, so it was an overall win for him.

The last few weeks had went exceptionally well for Harry and friends. The Room of Requirement had handed over the horcrux with merely a wish, and even though Hermione had freaked out when she recognized it as the legendary lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw the soul piece and the priceless artefact had succumbed to the basilisk venom with hardly a fight. Other thing that made Harry happy was that apparently Voldemort was still trying to get his forces into order after the failed attack against the Hogwarts express, and the aurors were bringing in more and more Death Eaters and various thugs that were associating with them. Remus had also communicated that his search was going well, and with various leads received from Dumbledore he believed to find the cave well before Christmas. For once it seemed like the war might actually come to an end.

The first gong before the start of the battle brought Harry back from his musings. This was the point when the defenders could start getting to their positions from the windowless room that held the objective — a small flag — simulating early warning given by imaginary wards around the house. Harry gave final signals to Hermione and Daphne who were waiting some distance to the left ready to lay down covering fire for Harry and Tracey's sprint across the open field.

It was a simple plan that played to the strengths of each individual: Hermione was devastatingly efficient and accurate with her spells, but in a blink of an eye situations and close quarters she just didn't perform up to her standards. Harry on the other hand thrived in close combat situations, where fast reflexes and brute force triumphed over perfection and finesse. The two Slytherins didn't come quite up to Harry and Hermione's level, but Harry had learned to trust Tracey to cover his back, while Daphne preferred to stay further away with Hermione.

Waiting inside the house was Neville's team. It was hard to believe that just a year ago he had been a shy and uncertain boy when you looked at his performance in the battles. It was also obvious that Susan and Hannah had received some self-defence tutoring after the attack on the Bones home: their team was solidly in the lead together with a group of seventh year Ravenclaws reinforced with a lone Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood rounded up Neville's team with her inimitable unorthodoxy, giving them the element of surprise whatever the situation was.

At the second gong Harry's team sprung to action. Hermione and Daphne quickly zeroed in on Susan who briefly looked out of the left hand window. With perfect timing the two girls fired their spells one after another, maintaining a steady stream of offensive magic without even a second's pause. Debris was flying all over the place pinning the defenders in place, and Harry made his dash towards the relative cover of the house's wall.

He was halfway through the open when a string of curses flew towards Harry from the previously empty window.

"Protego!" he shouted, diving to the side. Harry cursed Neville's skill as he noticed that he had been trapped directly between Neville and where Hermione and Daphne were staying, forcing him to keep on defence without support from them.

A flash of light had him diving to the ground again: seeing their leader getting caught in the open had caused Hermione and Daphne to lose focus, and Susan had joined in in the crossfire against Harry.

"Keep her down, dammit!" Harry shouted in between frantic dodging and shielding. "I can handle Neville, but I can't keep them both away without any cover!"

Harry's orders broke the team out of stupor, and the girls continued their fire. With Tracey's help Harry quickly managed to turn the tables on Neville, and continue his advance to the wall.

"That was bloody close. I hate getting caught in the open like that," Harry commented as he and Tracey were having a bit of a breather their backs against the wall.

"Watch the door, I'll close the window on Neville so the others can come down here too," he continued, turning to inch towards the window where Neville had fired from. With an audible grunt Harry started to push magic to the window frame, and it begun to change shape, colour and texture until a solid block of granite filled the opening. Harry layered the newly transfigured stone with a few protective spells, and deemed it strong enough to give adequate warning if Neville decided to try and fire out of there again.

On the other end of the façade Tracey was doing similar job on the other window, and a hastily assembled wooden structure was covering the somewhat widened opening closing views and spell-fire from inside.

Seeing the potential firing positions blocked and no enemy in sight, Hermione and Daphne made their way to the house.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione started. "I should have seen Neville before he opened fire."

"Don't worry about that," Harry said. "Let's get inside while the other team still keeps them busy," he continued, commenting on the sounds of spell-fire coming from the other side of the house where a team of fourth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were attacking at the same time.

Harry and Tracey took positions either side of the door ready to take the lead, while Daphne positioned herself right in front of it some distance away from the wall. Harry counted silently to three with his fingers, and Daphne let loose with as powerful a banishing charm as she could manage.

The door blew straight off it's hinges and flew across the hall to the opposite wall.

"Clear!" Harry and Tracey shouted, moving in with Hermione and Daphne hot on the heels, keeping close to the walls shield charms on their lips ready to respond should they walk into an ambush.

Harry conjured a small mirror and levitated it in front of him, looking beyond the corner in front of him. Just as he cleared the corner and advanced towards the objective in the right, Susan barged into the corridor from a room near by, almost colliding with Harry.

"Stupefy!" she incanted reflexively while the same spell was leaving Harry's wand silently in the middle of a dodge. Harry's follow-up swipe against her wand hand was not necessary as the red-haired Hufflepuff dropped to the floor, unconscious.

"Everyone okay?" Harry asked, turning to look over his shoulder at the others. A flash of red filled his vision, and then all went black.

- O -

"So, what can we learn from that?" Harry asked after everyone had been revived and minor scratches were being patched up by madam Pomfrey's students under her watchful eye. A group of Hogwarts elves were repairing the damage inflicted to the building, looking blissfully happy at the opportunity of doing more work.

"Always look up first when entering a room," Justin Finch-Fletchley called from the crowd. There was a bout of laughter, and Neville looked positively smug while Luna just smiled serenely.

"Well, yes. Luna's strategy of hiding in the ceiling with chameleon and sticking charms was pretty ingenious, and caught us all completely unaware. I'll have to add though that even if it worked great, it was quite a risky move. She couldn't help the others, and Hannah wasn't able to defend against Nigel's team. It's also worth noting that if we had used a more violent spell to break the door, she might have been caught by shrapnel. Anything else?"

"Silent casting," Hermione said.

"Again, yes. Luna was only able to stun us all because she cast all her spells silently. Now I know that this is the first year any of you have silent casting cowered in class, and even then it's only for those with NEWT defence. That doesn't mean you shouldn't practice it on your own, though. I learned silent casting during summer by simply using magic for all the little things you do every day. You start to feel stupid when you call the incantation for folding socks for the tenth time in a row all alone. That was great motivator, I'll tell you that.

"Also what I gathered from talking with Neville the defending team had excellent communication. Neville was able to come to Susan's help in the beginning, and they both moved quickly to support Hannah when we were able to block the windows. I think these points were the most important in this battle. It seems that the elves have managed to repair everything by now, so, next round?"

- O -

Having private dinners in the Room of Requirement had turned to a regular occurrence for Harry and Daphne, and Harry was again leading the way to the seventh floor after the DA session had ended. He had learned to like cooking during summer, and though the Dursleys certainly hadn't taught him anything special (their view on different foods had been similar to their view on anything different: it was bad for you and ought to be scorned), he wasn't a stranger in kitchen. And Harry took his Exceeds Expectations OWL score in potions as a sign that following instructions from a book wasn't beyond his capabilities.

Harry had also found out that cooking was an excellent way of just spending time with Daphne. She would review her work and pitch ideas at Harry while he was preparing the food; having things to do kept pauses from becoming awkward. And the look on Daphne's face when he (finally) managed to pull off a perfect dark chocolate soufflé was instant gratification for Harry the like no recreational potion could rival.

"What would you like to have today?" Harry asked, as he held the door the the Room open for Daphne. "I was thinking I'd like to try my hands on some fish, maybe grilled. Something simple and fresh."

"Sounds good for me. The kitchen elves are good at what they do, but simple and fresh really isn't their thing. I think they're still using recipes from the time of the founders; it gets repetitive after a few years."

"Great. I'll ask Dobby to fetch me ingredients. Any preferences on dessert?"

"Surprise me," Daphne said, sitting down on a couch a bit to the side from the dining table already set for two with fresh flowers and candles, an easy conversation distance away from the well equipped kitchen.

The setting was something Harry had come up with the first time she had asked him to serve her a dinner in the Room, and she loved it: right next to the sofa was a book stack filled to the brim with tomes on any topic one would want to read on, and somehow Harry had managed to get the room produce him glasses of chilled wine as aperitifs. Daphne believed the room was connected to the rest of the castle, and each time they wined and dined there the private stash of some of the teachers or a cellar meant for dignitaries and board members was diminished; conjuring food was after all against the fundamental laws of magic. But she really couldn't bring herself to care, and didn't mention her suspicions to Harry. He could be too honourable for his own good sometimes, and it's not like anyone could trace the disappearance of the wines to them. And they were good wines, as far as Daphne could tell.

Soon Harry had managed to explain Dobby what he wanted, and the elf popped away to complete his mission. Harry walked to the sofa, took a glass for himself and sat down next to Daphne. The girl rested her head on Harry's shoulder and lifted her feet up on the couch and sighed contently as she curled closer to him. The two teens simply sat there, enjoying the closeness.

"You know, I've been thinking about the horcrux in Gringotts," Daphne started after she had finished her drink.

"The cup thing? What about it?"

"Well, I was helping my sister with her history work — or rather, I gave her my notes — and I thought that there might be a solution for our problem."

"In your history notes? But Binns lectures only about some boring goblin rebellions, and I really can't see how starting a rebellion would really help us here."

"Yes, but it's not the rebellions that are important, but what comes after them. How much do you know about the wizarding law?"

Harry blushed slightly. "Not much. I mostly looked through the under-age and emancipation parts last year."

"You see, there's basically two sets of legislation that are important. There's the wizarding law, and then there's the goblin treaties that govern the bank and the goblin-wizard relations. Now, unlike the wizarding law that is mostly applied case by case and the Wizengamot has huge flexibility on their judgements, the goblins take the treaties dead seriously. That's why the treaties are in a way even more important than the law; in the Wizengamot it's always more about who owes what favours to whom than the actual written laws, but you really must follow the goblin treaties to the letter or the goblins have the right to confiscate all your assets in the bank."

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"I'm a pureblood heiress of an relatively wealthy family. It's a part of how I was raised," Daphne answered with a shrug. "And I think that's why Binns lectures about the goblin rebellions; he just doesn't do a very good job on it."

"Right. So you think there's something in the treaties that could help us get the horcrux?"

"Yes. It really comes down to the wording, but as it should give the goblins right to confiscate Lestrange's assets I don't think it's going to be too hard to convince them to see it our way."

"I can see your point there. Well, shoot. What's the treaty about?"

"Let's see if the law books are in here, so you can see it yourself," Daphne said, raising to her feet. As she walked nearer, a series of books bound in brown leather squeezed themselves into the view out of nowhere.

"It was sometime in the early 1700's," Daphne added, tracing her finger along the backs of the books. "Here!"

She took the book out of the stack and opened it in the small table in front of the sofa.

"There was a group of thugs not unlike the Death Eaters wreaking havoc in the beginning of the 18th century," Daphne explained the background as she was searching for the right page. "What was special about them was that they had their base of operations in a vault in Gringotts. Quite ingenious, actually. They were using portkeys they had bought from the goblins to travel in and out through the wards, and the aurors were helpless as they had no way of forcing entry to the vaults. In the end it ended with the goblins shutting the doors of the bank in front of siege by aurors, and a new treaty was made. The goblins got some of their demands through, but here's the important point regarding us," she said, pointing her finger at the transcript of the said treaty in the law book.

"'Not one soul shall be given refuge inside the Gringotts bank, the Vaults beneath, or in the Goblin nation'," Harry read out loud where she pointed. "And you're saying that a horcrux, being a 'soul container', is breaking that treaty?"

"That's the idea. I'm sure no one's tried to argue that before, but then I don't think there's really all that many horcruxes around. And it's certainly being kept in the vault as a way of keeping it safe, so the 'given refuge' part should be satisfied, too."

Daphne looked at Harry with a smirk on her face. "And you know what's the best thing about all this? If Voldemort had actually been a wealthy pureblood like he likes to pretend, he probably would have looked through the treaties more closely before letting Bellatrix take the horcrux to her vault. Bellatrix might have noticed this, but I don't think she knows what the cup actually is."

"You're brilliant!" Harry responded hugging Daphne tightly and kissing her on lips.

The two moved on to increasing amount of shows of affection on the sofa, which continued until Dobby interrupted them.

"Dinner is served, master Harry Potter, sir. Dobby prepared it as master was busy with his Daphne. Dobby thinks master should be busy with his Daphne more often and leave the cooking to us elves."

Both Harry and Daphne were flushed from their activities, and Harry even more so out of embarrassment for forgetting the dinner completely. They climbed up from the sofa, straightened their clothes and proceeded to enjoy excellent dinner of grilled _dorada_ with roasted vegetables, and as a dessert a delicious _tarte tatin_ with whipped cream. Dobby was overjoyed at getting to serve his master and 'his Daphne', and the two teens enjoyed the company of each other long into the evening.

- O -

The next Wednesday a flock of owls flew in to the Great hall during dinner, each carrying identical messages tied to their legs. If someone had tried to decipher the pattern of the receivers, they would have noticed that each of them had wealthy or otherwise influential family members, or, in the case of few of them, had showed great personal promise already. They would have seen that there seemed to be greater number of owls heading to the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, although one of the reasons why Gryffindor seemed to be left out more than others was that Harry and Hermione were eating their dinner with Daphne and Tracey, while Neville was keeping company to Hannah and Susan.

But the content of these letters was more interesting to the student population than trying to work out in-depth analysis on the owls' flight pattern, and each of the mysterious letters (as post was mostly delivered in the morning) had at least a few people reading over the shoulder of the actual recipient. A sound of excited giggling filled the hall as more and more people learned the contents, and speculative glances were thrown across tables.

"A Halloween party?" Harry asked lowering his letter down to the table. "Slughorn is hosting a private Halloween party in the castle and is inviting us there?"

Daphne and Hermione were reading through their own invitations.

"I've heard about Slughorn's parties before," Daphne said. "He has this thing about gathering influential people around him. I believe it's called 'the Slug Club'."

Harry groaned. "So it's not enough that Dumbledore's urging me to whore my fame to Slughorn, he has the gall to ask for it himself."

"It's not necessarily that bad. He's bound to have a lot of important people there, and it's always useful to make contacts. You know you can't change anything without the right allies," Daphne reminded.

"Right. I bet Riddle made a lot of good friends in these meetings," Harry said, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice.

"Probably," Daphne agreed, ignoring Harry's tone. "But you are not gaining anything by isolating yourself. And you do have leverage over the professor; he could be useful."

"What leverage?"

"You know his involvement with Riddle. I'm sure he wouldn't want it to be widely known."

"You can't seriously think about blackmailing a professor!" Hermione said, scandalized.

"Why not?" Harry asked, thinking it over. "You can't say he didn't bring it to himself. And I bet it's all public record anyway, if you just know where to look. I'm thinking more about what he could possibly have that I would want."

"Well, we already have the unlimited passes to the restricted section. But I'm looking further into the future here: I know we don't really need contacts right now, but there's life also after this war. And you might get some interesting or restricted potions from him," Daphne said. "Like veritaserum."

Harry looked thoughtful. "It would sure have been easier if we could have just asked for the polyjuice potion in the second year," he said, looking at Hermione. "We wouldn't have needed to break into Snape's office to get the ingredients."

"You brew polyjuice in the second year?" Daphne asked with a hushed voice. "And you broke into _Snape's_ office for ingredients? What were you thinking? Wasn't the basilisk deadly enough for you?"

"It was the best idea we could come up with," Hermione admitted defensively. "And we were thirteen, for God's sake. I don't think you should expect too much from thirteen year old kids."

"Twelve," Harry corrected. "I was twelve. But we got what we wanted, and didn't get caught." Harry shrugged. "It was interesting, though."

"I want to know all about that later," Daphne demanded. "But what about the party?"

Harry sighed. "Alright, I'll come. Who knows, it might even be fun. Now, when are we going to visit Gringotts to see if we can get the item?"

- O -

"You know, I find the history of Gringotts and the goblin treaties utterly fascinating," Hermione said as she, Harry and Daphne were walking down the Diagon Alley towards the with marble building that housed the bank.

They had asked and got a permission to leave the castle from professor McGonagall with the pretext of getting new dresses for the Halloween party, and while that definitely was on the schedule the real reason for the excursion was to negotiate terms of getting the horcrux out of the bank.

The people in the Alley were happily bustling around shopping, and the only thing that told them a war was going on was the increased presence of aurors in guard duty. Fred and George's shop seemed to have nice amount of business despite the fact that most of the customer base for their jokes was currently at school, but it looked like they had managed to branch out enough to attract the more mature audiences, too.

"I of course read all about them when you told me about this plan. The birth of the goblin banking monopoly is really an interesting piece of history."

"And you are going to lecture us about it now, right?" Harry asked teasingly. He was actually rather interesting as to why the wizards trusted the goblins with their money despite the many differences in the past. Hermione gave him a dirty look, but continued nonetheless.

"It actually starts in the 15th century when Nicolas Flamel finally managed to create the philosopher's stone—"

"The _same_ Flamel we were researching in our first year?"

"Yes, the same Flamel," Hermione said irritated. "Now, he of course started to make as much gold as possible with his new stone, and _that_ of course angered those who had the previously existing gold; a huge amount of new gold would make their treasures worthless. It was actually one of the few times goblins, wizards and muggles united against a common enemy. There wasn't much of a fight, mind you, but Flamel was forced to relinquish all of his gold, and it was given to the goblins to be minted as new currency. With enough charms and enchantments to lock it down as coins, to protect the existing gold supply. And that's what started the goblin banking monopoly. Of course there were a few battles fought over who actually owned the new coins as the goblins have their own concept of ownership, but it's all written up in the treaties."

Harry looked at the marble façade of the wizarding bank with new interest as they walked up the wide stairs. Once inside Harry asked for an audience with his account manager, and the three teens were quickly escorted in a private meeting room beneath the main floor of the bank. Harry's account manager Axeheart entered the room from a side door long long after, and gestured the guests to sit down.

The account manager listened quietly as Harry explained the situation with the horcrux to him. While not one muscle move on the goblins face when Harry mentioned the section of the treaty that Daphne had found, an unmistakable glint of pure greed could be seen in his eyes as he caught the implication of confiscating the moneys in the Lestrange vault even before Harry got that far in his explanation.

When Harry finished his story the goblin leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully over Harry shoulder towards the far wall where a solid gold relief depicted a mythical battle between ancient goblins and a dragon hoarding a mountain of treasure. The legend of the goblin brethren charging the beast with no regards for their personal safety to get a hold of the gold was an important part of goblin culture, and in a way still showed in the way they made business.

"I of course can't promise anything," the goblin started slowly. "In theory it seems simple enough, but I will have to involve the legal department, and I would wager the board will be informed, too. It might take months before we can make the decision."

"Months?" Harry asked, his eyes widening.

"Mr. Potter, you have to understand that wars have been started for smaller reasons than this. I understand the importance of this, but we'll have to think wider repercussions to the goblin race as whole. You just need to respect our autonomy and wait."

"I guess I can understand your position," Harry said, sighing. "But please try to make your superiors see the urgency of the matter. The longer Voldemort is allowed to live, the more people will lose their lives."

"I will, Mr. Potter. Rest assured, the size of the Lestrange account alone will be enough to catch the full attention of the board. We will do this as quickly as we can, but you'll have to admit that it's highly unusual that this kind of breach in the treaties is brought to our attention via private customers and not the DMLE."

"Yes, well. We hope to keep this silent until we can secure the objects. If Voldemort heard that we know where he has hidden them, it would make this so much harder for us. Doing this via DMLE would make it public immediately."

"I understand, and we'll keep that in mind as we consider our position. Now, I think I'd better take this onward. I'll have someone escort you to your vaults if you need," Axeheart said, rising up from his chair, prompting the others to do so too.

"Thank you, that would be nice," Daphne said.

- O -

"Well, that could have gone better," Harry commented as they exited the bank, their money bags filled. "I got a distinct feeling he was trying to play time, and that he was ready to plunder the Lestrange vault right there and then."

"I noticed the same thing," Daphne agreed. "I think he probably needs to have more time to consider if the goblins could make even more money out of this. We might still need to go through the DMLE in the end, but it was worth the shot."

"Let's hope that Remus finds that cave before it comes to that," Harry said. "The locket is the only one missing besides the snake, and if we can get that, then it doesn't matter any more if it goes public that we know the cup is in the bank."

"Yes. But there's nothing we can do about it now. So let's go get us some clothes."

- O -

Once again harry had to wonder the workings of a female mind as he waited for Daphne to arrive to the Halloween party. The shopping alone had taken better part of the day, and she had complained about not having enough time to go abroad. Earlier the same day she had excused herself to get ready for the night already after the lunch, while Harry had just donned his new robes half an hour ago, after a brief and futile attempt at doing anything to his hair.

The courtyard Slughorn had prepared for the party had rooms tastefully decorated on two floors, and copious amounts of warming charms kept the dance floor in the middle and the balconies surrounding it comfortable even under the dark autumn sky. Atypically for the season there were no clouds in sight, and stars were shining along with the hundreds of floating candles that provided soft lightning for the party.

As Harry looked around he had to grudgingly admit that Slughorn had certainly made it good with his Slug Club. Even though the party was held in the school, only about one in four of the guests were actually students. Harry recognized a couple of Wizengamot lords among the guests, and in one corner the star chaser of Puddlemere United was having a serious looking discussion with the keeper of the Arrows. Some of the guests were clearly foreign with their own traditional wizarding wear, and Harry thought he had recognized one vampire.

"Harry! There you are!" someone shouted from behind, causing Harry to turn around.

Once again Harry had to agree that despite the undecipherable nature of the female mind it really was worth it to just cope with it. Daphne was dressed in a closely form fitting black dress with dramatic deep dark red design on it. Her hair was held up in a loose knot leaving her slender neck bare and displaying her elegant silver earrings. Harry couldn't get a word out of his mouth as Daphne walked toward him.

"Wow. You look good," Harry managed finally to say when she was straight in front of him.

"Just good?" she asked playfully.

"Beautiful. Gorgeous."

"Thank you, Harry. It's good to hear my efforts are appreciated. It was worth it, though, just to see the jealous face of Parkinson when I was getting ready. She was of course trying to downplay the party, but I know she and Draco were trying to convince Slughorn that they should have been invited too. It seems that having a Death Eater as a father doesn't have so much pull anymore."

"Hah! I bet it's hurting the git to not to be able to go for his old stand-by!"

"It sure does. But I don't think it's wise to dismiss him completely as a threat. It's clear that he has grown darker and more broody this term. Before he was just a petulant child, now I think he might actually do something."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. "It might be a good idea to plant a listening device in his room, if only to hear what he is bragging about to his mates in private. I bet Sasha could sneak in with little trouble."

"Good idea. I think she's getting a bit bored. Scaring Pansy and Millie isn't as much fun any more, and there's only so much you can do in a girls dorm when you're a snake."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing if guard duty is boring. Suppose it means there's not too much danger."

"That's true," Daphne agreed, before something behind Harry caught her attention.

"It seems like the host of this party is coming to greet us," she said.

Harry sighed. "Well, let's get this over with, and we might be able to actually enjoy the party," he said and turned to face the approaching professor.

Professor Slughorn was dressed in obviously expensive robes that, if possible, made him look even more round than usual. A huge smile grew on his face as Harry made eye contact and he opened his arms in greeting.

"Mr. Potter, it's splendid to see you here, it truly is! And Miss Greengrass! I believe I have heard rumours that your father might be made into a noble lord after the war for his work in Wizengamot. He has made some quick friends, and if I'm not completely mistaken your friendship with Harry here has something to do with it? Not bad for a sixteen year old, not bad indeed. Can't say even I managed such feats when I was your age, even though I was quite accomplished even then, if I say so myself."

Daphne nodded politely at the man's words, the real reason for her invitation now blatantly obvious.

"And Harry, my boy!" Slughorn continued. "Many of my friends are _dying_ to meet you. I must introduce you to them at once."

The professor snaked his arm around Harry's shoulder and tried to lead him deeper into the party, when Harry whipped his wand out of his sleeve with a motion that startled the older man. He conjured a privacy spell around them careful to not to attract too much attention.

"Listen to me, _Slughorn_," Harry said stressing the lack of an honorific in front of the name. "I know all about your little club, and I have no intention to be a pawn on your board. I also know you know about the horcruxes Riddle made, and have done nothing about them for half a century now. In my books that makes you as low as an insect."

Slughorn's eyes widened and the jovial red of his cheeks changed to grey.

"Did Dumbledore send you after me?" the man asked weakly. "Because if so, the answer is still no. I have no intention of getting myself killed for telling the story."

"Dumbledore? No. He tried to, yes, but I already know what you know, so there's nothing you can tell me. No. I'm blackmailing you."

"Blackmailing?"

"Yes, blackmailing. You see, Riddle kept a journal about his journey into the Dark Arts, and I just happened to find those journals in the Chamber of Secrets. There's awful lot of information in them about how _you_ provided him with the means to become what he is today."

Harry took a short pause to let the words sink, and watched with fascination how even more colour disappeared from the professors face.

"I could destroy your reputation. No one would want to associate with you any more. No more gifts, no more invitations to fancy parties, no more socializing with the cream of the society. You might have heard that I have some pull on the Prophet these days, and I hear Rita Skeeter is feeling particularly vindictive after I was able to change the publishing guidelines of the Prophet to more factual direction. She hasn't been able to properly trounce almost anyone after that. It must really eat the woman, don't you think? Just imagine what a headline 'The Mentor of the Dark Lord' would make her do."

"What do you want?" Slughorn croaked.

"Nothing much. I don't actually even know myself, mind you, but on the short term I would be happy with a little support from a teacher when I need to do things that aren't exactly allowed. And a few more interesting potions might do good, too. You never know when you need, for example, polyjuice or veritaserum, wouldn't you agree? On the long term there might come times when I need the support of your network to push through a reform or two, but I'm sure we'll have time to discuss that when it's more relevant."

Harry thought for a moment.

"Basically you will work for me. You can continue having your parties, but of course you can't sell your support to anyone who opposes me. I guess I could pay you a little for that to keep you active, but that's also something to be discussed later. Now, if you would excuse us, the food looks delicious, and I'm sure you haven't spared expenses in the drinks. I've always wanted to taste real Champagne."

Harry cancelled the charm that had kept the other guests blissfully unaware of the topic of the conversation. He escorted Daphne towards one of the party rooms where the fellow students seemed to have concentrated leaving a stunned but rapidly recovering potions professor behind.

- O -

Harry collapsed in his bed, tired, happy and inebriated from the Halloween party. You could say whatever you wanted about Slughorn as a human being, but the man certainly knew how to throw a party. After the uncomfortable confrontation Slughorn had more or less left Harry and Daphne alone, and that was just like he liked it. They had danced, eaten, talked and otherwise had a good time well into the night, and had even managed to arrange a small after-party in the Room of Requirements.

For once Harry had been able to truly enjoy his Halloween at Hogwarts. No trolls had been set loose in the castle, no mythical beasts were lurking in the hallways, no escaped prisoners were seen trying to force entry to the dorms. No one had tried to enter him into any mortally dangerous competition and no sadistic High Inquisitors were after his hide. Harry wished all his future Halloweens would be like this one.

A wish he would soon want to take back.

-o0oOo0o-


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

-o0oOo0o-

"Get off, I don' wanna get up yet," Harry slurred as someone nudged his shoulder. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew it was too early, especially after the previous nights party. In fact he felt like he was still drunk, as his head was swimming. Yes, definitely too early.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir! You needs to wake up!"

Ah. What was it with overenthusiastic house-elves? Harry drew the blankets over his head and tried to ignore the increasing amount of force Dobby was using.

"Mister Harry Potter sir needs to listen to this!" Dobby continued. "It's the bad wizard!"

'Bad wizard? What bad wizard?' Harry thought. The only one they had bugged was Goyle, and he was in prison.

"Goyle's in Azkaban," Harry stated out loud curling tighter into his blankets. "He can wait."

"Dobby knows, Mister Harry Potter sir. But them bad aurors in the prison are giving them evil men their wands!"

Harry sprang up from his bed, and after a couple of missed attempts managed to snatch the listening device from the frantic elf. He fought off a wave of nausea as he held it to his ear.

"...be patient, Goyle! The Dark Lord will be here soon. Don't do anything stupid with that wand before he gets here, or we'll be neck deep in aurors!" Harry heard an unrecognised voice saying.

"Harry Potter sir needs to do something before the bad wizards get away!"

That was all Harry needed to hear. He took a few uncertain steps and threw a robe over his pyjamas, stowing his wand in the waistband of his pants. He grabbed his Firebolt from the corner, opened the window with a quick push and flew out of the Gryffindor tower.

On a straight line a Firebolt could easily out-fly any broom currently on the market; on a perpendicular dive out of a tower the acceleration was downright scary. When Harry pulled up from his dive narrowly missing the courtyard wall he was already doing nearly two hundred miles per hour, and the Hogwarts gates and with them the edge of the anti-apparition wards were closing in quickly. Harry touched down immediately after he had cleared the outer wall, and apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

Landing uncertainly on the polished floor of the atrium Harry noticed he had forgotten his shoes and socks. He cursed the hurry he was in as he ran across the open space, his feet slapping against the stone, the Firebolt still in his hand and robes billowing around his pyjamas.

"What are you doing here at this hour, son?" the night guard sitting behind the table asked, taking a long look at the appearance of the young man in front of him.

"I need to alert the aurors," Harry stated hurrying past the guard. "There's an attack in Azkaban."

"Attack in Azkaban?" the guard asked. "Son, I don't know what kind of a dare you are doing, but raising a false alarm is a serious offence. And you really shouldn't drink and fly, you might kill yourself."

"I'm not doing a dare! Voldemort will attack the prison any moment now, and I need to tell the aurors!" Harry shouted over his shoulder, pressing the button of the elevator repeatedly, hoping for the doors to open.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic Vertical Transportation System," the elevator said in a polite female voice. "How can we be of assistance?"

"I need to get to the auror office! It's an emergency!"

"Engaging emergency safety override. Next stop, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, level two."

As soon as the elevator doors closed right in front of the face of the guard who had finally managed to get his act together, Harry was knocked off his feet by the sudden acceleration. He had barely had time to rise to a crouch when an equally abrupt stop threw him in the air.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the elevator announced with a cheery voice. "Thank you for using the Ministry of Magic Vertical Transportation System, have a pleasant day!"

Harry scrambled to his feet and sprinted through the deserted auror offices towards the command room, where a duty officer was keeping eye on any alerts around the clock.

"Who are you?" the auror keeping watch asked as Harry rushed in. "You aren't supposed to be here. This is off limits for civilians."

"Forget that," Harry said, trying to catch his breath. "You need to raise an alarm. Voldemort is attacking Azkaban!"

"What are you rambling about? We would know immediately if there was an attack on Azkaban, and even You-Know-Who would be foolish to try to attack against the fortress with aurors and dementors guarding the place."

"Just believe me, please! The aurors in Azkaban are traitors, they are dealing out wands to the Death Eaters as we speak."

"That can't be," the auror said in denial. "The guards at the prison are the most reliable aurors we have. Who else would have the sense of duty to volunteer to guard the bloody Azkaban on Halloween night? Clearly you don't understand the workings of the ministry, boy."

Harry felt urgent need to hit something, or someone, but managed to quench that desire by clenching his fists. He had a distinct feeling that there was a reason why this particular auror had been assigned the night shift on Halloween, while all the others were spending the holiday at home with their families. There was no way this prick would have been there unless it was some sort of punishment for his complete lack of common sense.

"Don't you see? The reason for those aurors to volunteer was to break out the prisoners."

"Listen, boy. I don't like the tone you're using while talking about the aurors. They are putting their lives on the line so that the likes of you can play their silly games. I should arrest you for disrupting me in my work."

"The likes of me?" Harry said, brushing his messy hair out of his forehead, revealing his scar. "I think I know quite a bit about putting my life on the line, thank you very much. Now get someone competent in here before it's all too late."

The auror stared at the scar for a while, and then his expression turned to a sneer.

"So the Prophet was right all the time. You are just an attention seeking brat after all, Potter," he spat. "You might have the minister fooled, but you won't fool me."

Harry's temper boiled over. He whipped his wand out and stunned the duty officer with one fluid movement.

The body of the auror hadn't had time to hit the ground when multiple things happened at once.

The auror office was warded to hell and back, and the moment offensive magic left Harry's wand an alarm was triggered. As klaxon started to sound all around Harry the night guard from the atrium stepped out of the elevator with two other guards, and saw the duty officer dropping to the ground, Harry standing over him wand on his hand.

A rapid response team of aurors in the break room had also started to wonder what the shouting was all about, and were debating whether to intervene or not. The second the alarm started to sound they drew their wands and stormed through a door to the command room, ready for battle. The sight of a dishevelled teenager with wand in his hand and a still body of an auror was waiting for them.

Harry's alcohol addled brain didn't have time to process what exactly was happening around him before stunners from both directions caused all lights to go out.

- O -

"You are going to be so sorry when the director gets here," the duty officer said with a voice dripping with malice when Harry woke up from unconsciousness. "The alarm you triggered has sent an automated message to all units, and they are not going to be happy to be alerted to duty by some stupid attention seeking kid."

Harry was dying to retort, but found himself immobilized on the floor and unable to speak. The other aurors were looking a bit more uncertain. Harry recognized some of them from his sparring matches, and knew that they were good men. But the duty officer was in charge, and they couldn't do anything.

"Trying to raise a false alarm is bad enough, but attacking an auror, that's going to really cost you," the prick continued. "Even your name isn't going to save you this time, and Dumbledore won't be able to come to rescue."

Harry didn't know whether to glare or to roll his eyes. If only the idiot would listen to him! But Harry recognized what kind of man the auror was, and the fact that he had been bested by Harry wouldn't make him any more co-operative.

Minutes went by as Harry hoped against all hope that the other aurors would be fast enough to have time to respond to the threat in Azkaban. The duty officer was occasionally taunting Harry, and Harry was helpless to respond in any way.

Finally, twenty minutes after the alarm Rufus Scrimgeour stepped imperiously through the main door with two full squads of aurors hot on his heels.

"What is going on in here?" the director asked. "Why was I dragged out of my bed on the Halloween night?"

"Sir, Potter here bursted through the door, drunk, and started to spin some wild tale about You-Know-Who attacking Azkaban," the duty officer explained, standing in attention. "When I didn't immediately follow his orders, he stunned me and triggered the alarm."

"Potter, you say?" Scrimgeour asked turning to look at Harry who was still in the floor. "Harry Potter?"

"That's the one. I guess Fudge was right about him after all."

"And Azkaban is safe?"

"Sir, of course Azkaban is safe," the auror said, scandalized. "You're not suggesting that I should have believed the ramblings of a kid?"

Scrimgeour shot a glare at the auror. "Auror Wilson. Lord Potter might be young, but it was information provided by him that allowed us to avoid a total catastrophe when the DEs attacked the school train. It was also because of Lord Potter that the minister's niece and her friend were saved from another attack. I don't know what his sources are, but so far they have been damn impressive. So I ask you again, is Azkaban safe?"

"Sir! You know we are monitoring the wards of the prison from here. If Azkaban was under attack, there would be one hell of an alarm sounding in here. And as you can see, there isn't one."

As soon as the auror had finished his sentence, an ear-piercing sound filled the room and a red light started flashing under a plaque where one word was written in thick black letters.

**Azkaban.**

- O -

Six hours later Harry was slowly eating breakfast in the Gryffindor table, trying to stay awake. He had received a potion for his headache from the aurors, but even with magic there simply wasn't any safe ways to counteract tiredness caused by lack of sleep. Harry had stayed at the auror headquarters until the battle at the prison island was over, and had gotten only a couple of hours of sleep before breakfast.

"Morning, Harry!" Daphne said happily. She sat down next to Harry, while Hermione found a place across him.

"Harry?" she asked, when Harry failed to answer but continued to prod the bacon on his plate. "What's the matter?"

Harry raised his head to look at her when an owl landed on the table, delivering the morning paper.

"This," Harry answered, showing the front page to the girls.

_YOU-KNOW-WHO ATTACKS AZKABAN!_

_In a daring move involving planted traitors inside the country's auror force the Dark Lord Voldemort mounted an attack against the prison island of Azkaban last night. The defected aurors, having subdued the other defenders of the fortress handed out wands to the prisoners while the attacking force approached the wards from outside. Shortly before two in the night the actions taken to bring down the wards triggered an alarm in the ministry, and a counter attack was quickly organized. According to our sources inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the aurors had received enough warning through an unnamed source that instead of only minimum night guard the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Rufus Scrimgeour himself was present at the headquarters and was able to take lead and respond to the attack in timely and efficient manner._

_DMLE spokesperson Martin Bernard commented to our reporter that despite the fact that multiple highly dangerous prisoners were able to escape from the prison, the skirmish was by no means a complete victory for the dark forces. The effectiveness of the countermeasures taken meant that the prison break was stopped and the island fortress stays in the control of the Ministry of Magic._

_Lord Voldemort himself was spotted in the battle, but after it seemed certain that complete victory was out of his reach he ordered retreat to get his forces out of the island before they suffered further losses._

_Five aurors were killed in the battle and further twelve were hospitalized. We at the Prophet will follow how their condition develops and report as soon as we can._

_Read more:  
>Ministry issues warning about rogue dementors - pg. 4<br>What to do if you see the escaped death eaters - pg. 5_

"Dobby woke me up last night when they were giving a wand to Goyle. I rushed to the ministry, and, well, there's the result," Harry explained. "I had maybe three hours of sleep, total."

Hermione shifted her gaze from the paper to Harry, and noticed the huge bags under his eyes.

"How bad is it really?" she asked, nodding her head towards the paper on the table.

"It's bad," Harry answered. "As far as the numbers go, about half of the prisoners escaped. But they were the worst, cruellest and the most experienced ones. What we have left are more or less thugs with no individual relevance. The aurors were lucky that the Death Eaters were weak from the exposure to the dementors, and didn't have wands that completely suited them.

"But the worst thing is that pretty much all of the dementors left with Voldemort. Azkaban is without guards, and we now know the wards were not strong enough to keep Voldemort out. I don't know what we are going to do, but trying to guard the prisoners with aurors would tie awful lot of our forces when they should be out there trying to catch the escapees."

Harry was interrupted when a potato landed on the newspaper, coming from the direction of the Slytherin table.

"You're next, scarhead!" Malfoy shouted, showing the paper to make clear what he referred to. Harry sighed and shook his head.

"That reminded me that I'll need to talk to Sasha," he said. "Then I'll go and try to get some rest. They have called in an emergency session of the Wizengamot in a few hours, and I don't think I can make through it without falling asleep. I'll tell you two everything later."

- O -

Pandemonium was reigning in the Wizengamot as the emergency session was under way. Harry was desperately trying to stay awake as the debate about what should be done waved around the chamber. Some were demanding the minister to step down, others were expressing their opinion that Amelia shouldn't have become one in the first place. Still others blamed the previous administration for the leaving the current one with a sinking ship.

Azkaban, and specifically what to do with the prisoners now that the dementors were no longer guarding the island was another hot topic.

"I say we should just kill them all!" one of the lords said with a booming voice. "Dead people won't escape."

This statement was greeted with cheers of agreement that seemed to drown the shouts of indignation. Hard measures were popular in the difficult situation, and escaped prisoners hardly inspired sympathy.

"More needless killing is not the answer," Dumbledore said, his powerful presence being enough to silence the hall. "Everyone deserves a chance to atone for their sins."

"Then what do you propose we do with the prisoners?" the same man asked. "We hardly have enough aurors to catch the escapees, and without the dementors they would escape again as soon as they can. We can't afford to station enough men in the island to keep it secure."

Harry lifted his head for the first time as the debate was again starting to boil over.

"Hogwarts," he said.

A ripple of silence spread across the chamber as more and more people turned to look at the youngest of the Lords. The Chief Warlock banged with his gavel.

"Excuse me, Lord Potter, but could you please repeat your previous statement?"

"I said Hogwarts," Harry repeated with more confidence. "I mean, we all know that Hogwarts has the strongest protections in Britain, isn't that right, headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded at agreement, looking thoughtful at what Harry was implying.

"And despite the fact that it's a school, Hogwarts castle is a, well, a castle. It's capable of withstanding sieges, and I know there's more than enough unused dungeons underneath."

"So you are proposing we paint a target on our children?" someone shouted. "Are you crazy?"

"Hogwarts is already on Voldemort's list," Harry said back, ignoring the shudders the name caused among the lords. "Or have you forgotten what happened to the express two months ago? I'd say that having aurors positioned in the castle would only make it safer for the students."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, do you have anything to say?" the Chief Warlock asked.

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long while, fingering his long beard with his healthy hand.

"Lord Potter's suggestion does have merit," he said finally. "Hogwarts was built as a defensive fortification, and is the best protected place on this island, if not the whole world. And we indeed do have enough empty dungeons that could be used to house the prisoners. We do also have enough elves to easily handle the feeding of the prisoners and the guards."

The Chief Warlock banged his gavel again.

"We will take a short break to discuss Lord Potter's proposal before we continue this session. Twenty minutes."

- O -

Harry stumbled up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, more tired than he could remember ever being. Nothing was ever simple and easy in the Wizengamot, and the emergency session had eventually taken until well into the afternoon. In the end they had decided to use Hogwarts as a temporary prison, but there had been concessions made to appease those who demanded blood: death sentence would be re-introduced; the Goblin Liaison Office would start negotiating ways of confiscating the assets of the Death Eaters; the rules of engagement of the aurors were changed to allow broader use of force.

By and large Harry was happy with the results. Ever since his first encounter with dementors he had thought that Azkaban was something that shouldn't exist in the first place, a notion that was further reinforced when Sirius' innocence was revealed to him. Harry also wasn't really in a position to moralize killing the enemy in a battle, not that he actually wanted to. The death sentence was the only point that Harry wasn't too keen about after what had happened to Sirius, but to be honest it wasn't any worse than the dementor's kiss, and some serious conditions had been established that had to be filled before the sentence would be carried out.

Harry tossed his formal robes on top of his trunk and collapsed on his bed. Dinner would start soon, and Harry was battling with himself whether his tiredness or hunger was the more pressing issue, when someone else entered the room.

"You weren't at the Quidditch practice."

Harry cursed silently and opened his eyes. Ron was standing at the door, dressed in his practice uniform and holding his broom over his shoulder.

"No I wasn't," he said. "I had other things to do."

"You should have been there," Ron continued. "The Slytherin game is in one week, and we need to be ready."

"Listen, Ron. There are other things that are more important than Quidditch."

"Oh? So saint Potter doesn't get to be the captain and now the team doesn't matter anymore? Or is it just that you don't care about Gryffindor as you're fraternizing with the snakes? Did that slag of yours promise to shag you if you let the Slytherin win?"

"Fuck you, Weasley, and keep Daphne out of this," Harry retorted, rising to sit on the edge of his bed. "And did you honestly think that you were McGonagall's first choice to be a captain before Katie or me? It was I who recommended you to her, when she offered the position to me."

Harry stood up from his bed and grabbed his standard school uniform robes from his trunk.

"I spend my whole day at the Wizengamot trying to keep this country from falling apart and this is the thanks I get," he said, walking to the door. "And did you know that even the professional players are talking about leaving the league and going abroad because of the war? I bet you didn't, the Cannons don't have anyone good enough to make it elsewhere!"

Harry slammed the door to the dormitory closed and stormed out of the Gryffindor tower, his tiredness forgotten for the moment.

- O -

The ministry didn't beat around the bush after the decision had been made. A group of aurors had come to Hogwarts to prepare the dungeons on Sunday, and first prisoners had been transferred already on Monday. Aurors standing guard on the battlements as prisoners were brought in through the seldom used northern gate were constant reminder of the war that was going on outside the castle walls.

Thursday afternoon found Harry and Daphne in the Room of Requirements, that had become a new 'common room' for the group of friends. It allowed the students from different houses to work together and discuss in a way that wouldn't be possible under the ever watchful eyes of Madam Pince in the library, and it was just more versatile in every way than the countless of unused rooms around the castle.

As Neville was out with Hannah, Susan and Luna working on a new strategy for the DA battles, Harry and Daphne had the room all for themselves. They were sitting on a sofa in a comfortable silence, Daphne working on her potions homework and Harry leafing through dusty tomes he had found in the ruins of the Grimmauld Place.

The journals Sirius had left him before Christmas had proved to be a verifiable gold mine of information, and following the instructions found within Harry had discovered the secret underground vault that had survived the heat of the fiendfyre. In there, among all sorts of magical objects dozens of generations of Blacks had created and acquired had been handwritten books that held the most closely guarded secrets of the family.

Even though some of the magic described in the books made Harry's spine shiver there was a lot of extremely useful and practical information. And when Hermione had questioned Harry about some of the darker material he had noted that it was also something 'the Dark Lord knew not'. The Blacks might have supported Voldemort, but family and family secrets always came first while Dark Lords came and went.

The peace of the Room was disturbed when Hermione marched in, agitated.

"I can't believe the people in this school!" she huffed as she sat down on a chair opposite to the sofa Daphne and Harry were occupying. Harry looked at his friend and raised his eyebrow.

"Honestly, they are all acting like there's an open war going on in the hallways. I saw a group of second year Slytherins taking cover in an alcove when I walked past them near the library, and in the Gryffindor tower Ron was using his position as a prefect to organize the younger students to, and I quote, 'patrol the hallways to protect the Quidditch team from the slimy snakes'."

"It's kind of understandable," Daphne said, having laid her quill down on the table. "The unease, I mean. Weasley's quidditch fanaticism is just stupid.

"Our society is so small that almost everyone knows someone who has been affected by the war one way or another," she elaborated. "For example there's this one third year, Nathalie Harewood, whose uncle was one of the aurors who were injured in Azkaban. They say that he banished Nott's father over the cliff just before he was cursed from behind by Bellatrix, who we all is Draco's aunt. And now I've heard people calling Nathalie blood-traitor because of that. It's all messed up."

"What about Draco?" Harry asked. "I have Sasha listening on him, but I haven't heard anything from her, yet. Has he acted on his threats in any way?"

"I don't know," Daphne answered. "He's started to run his mouth more again, but I can't say if it means anything. And it's not like I have been in the dungeons all that much," she said, leaning in to kiss Harry on the cheek.

- O -

In the Slytherin dorms Sasha was enjoying her new mission. The dungeons were filled with passageways inside the walls with parseltongue-activated hidden portals, giving the snake unlimited access anywhere she liked. There was also no shortage of rats and other rodents, and in fact she was currently slumbering peacefully under her target's bed, coiled up to digest her latest meal.

"—and can you believe it? The squib Longbottom with his team of two _Hufflepuff_ bints and the loony Lovegood is actually leading their 'competition'. If that's not a proof of how pathetic they are then I don't know what is."

The voice of her target stirred Sasha to full alert as the blonde boy entered with two other boys. Malfoy dropped on his bed causing some dust to float on top of Sasha.

"You know," Malfoy continued with a more hushed voice, "I think I might be able to get the mark of our Lord this coming Christmas. I mean, of course I will, I'm a Malfoy, but I've been thinking that maybe if I could give him a _present_ of sorts, I could once again elevate the name Malfoy where it belongs in no time."

"A present?" a gruff voice asked curiously. "Do you think the Dark Lord would like chocolate frogs?"

"No, you idiot. I'm talking about killing one of his enemies."

"Are you sure that's wise?" the third boy asked. "I've heard that our Lord doesn't like unsanctioned operations. I hear that Potter is off limits to anyone else than the Dark Lord himself, for example."

Sasha could practically smell the sneer on Malfoy's face. "Maybe it wouldn't be wise for you, Nott. But the Dark Lord expects initiative from his most trusted followers. I will do my thing, you can be a pawn if you like. And die in a prison like your father."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Nott shouted. "It was because of the harebrained plot of _your_ father my father was in the prison in the first place!"

Ah, the sweet sound of the enemy fighting with themselves. Sasha rested her head back down on her coils and shut her eyes, enjoying the show and the pleasantly filling feeling of the rat she had eaten earlier.

-o0oOo0o-


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

-o0oOo0o-

Harry cursed under his breath as he wiped the Marauder's Map clean and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. It was already the second week of December, and end of term exams were scheduled on the next week. But Harry couldn't focus on his studies, as the threats from Malfoy ate him day and night.

Daphne looked at her boyfriend with worry visible in her eyes.

"I think you are becoming a bit too obsessed with Draco."

"I know!" Harry answered. "But what else can I do? We both know he's planning something, and while I agree he's been all talk for the last six years, I refuse to let him get away with whatever he's going to do. And as he hasn't done anything illegal yet, what can I do? I hardly can just kill him, can I?"

"Harry, I know. We've had this discussion before. I'm just saying that your obsession is getting unhealthy."

Harry sighed. "It's just that I feel like I should do more. I mean, yes, I'm getting better at duelling, but I know I'm not nearly good enough to take Voldemort head on. And then there's the horcruxes; there's been nothing from the goblins, and Remus is still searching. Knowing that there's a junior death eater in the castle just waiting to strike while I can't do anything makes me crazy."

"But you already have Dobby and Sasha watching him, what more can you do?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted in defeat. "I don't know what to do and that's just what's making me so frustrated."

Harry walked to the window the Room of Requirement had provided them. The seventh floor had a spectacular view over the Forbidden Forest and the valley of the Black Lake. The Hogwarts grounds below were already in the shadow of the mountains surrounding the valley, but the final rays of the afternoon sun were still warming Harry's face as he watched to the distance, deep in thought.

Harry watched as the shadowy figures of the thestrals flew in lazy circles over the forest, remembering every death he had witnessed. Last year it had been only Cedric, as for some reason Quirrell hadn't counted. The poor sod had probably been dead already when the confrontation over the Philosopher's stone had happened. But last summer had added to the number: first Dolohov by Harry's own hand, then the still warm body of Gregory Goyle that had appeared out of thin air brought along by Sasha and a portkey. In the flying battle over the Hogwarts express about a dozen more had been added to his count. And Lucius Malfoy, albeit only in a nightly vision.

So much death. Harry briefly wondered whether Daphne could see the winged horses. Probably not; Goyle had been dead already when his body had arrived to the Shrieking Shack, and Harry doubted Daphne would have had to encounter anything close to what he had during her childhood. But it was likely that it would change before the war was over. The horseless carriages wouldn't be known as horseless by this generation of students.

A smaller silhouette caught Harry's eye as he watched the darkening southern sky. He recognized the purposeful movement and the steady beat of wings of a post owl, and imagined what kind of mail was being delivered and to whom. Was it professional correspondence of a teacher, or a love note from a graduated student? A mother enquiring preferences for a Christmas present?

Harry stared at the owl absent-mindedly as it came closer and closer. Only when the large dark feathered bird landed on the window and hooted loudly was he broken out of his thoughts to the reality of things: the owl was there for him, and judging by the important looking seal in the scroll tied to the birds leg it was from Gringotts.

Harry opened the window and untied the message, and as the owl left without making any further noises he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

_Valued Account Holder Mr. Harry Potter,_

_Thank you for your concern about the integrity of the Treaty of 1724. We have evaluated the situation, and the offending object has been removed from the Gringotts Bank, and the offending parties have been punished accordingly._

_We once again wish to thank you for bringing this to our knowledge and thus helping us to maintain the lawful state in the dealings between the Goblin Nation and the world around._

_May your journeys bring You much wealth,_

_At the behest of the board,  
>Account Manager Axeheart<em>

Harry furrowed his brow and read the letter again, and then third time.

"What on earth does this mean?" he asked, showing the letter to Daphne who had joined Harry by the window. "They have 'removed' the horcrux? What do they mean with that?"

Daphne took the letter and quickly read through it.

"I don't know," she said. "They could mean that they have destroyed it, but it could also mean that they have simply moved it somewhere. I think we should go to London and ask ourselves; it's Hogsmeade weekend this week, and I could do some shopping in the Alley on the side."

"Yeah, I guess that's better than sending an owl, and probably faster, too," Harry agreed, tucking the note to his pocket.

- O -

The next Saturday Harry and Daphne were in London, sitting in the office of Harry's account manager Axeheart. Neville was spending the day with Hannah and Susan, while Hermione had been still uncertain during breakfast. Harry and Daphne had arrived to London as soon as they had managed to duck out of sight in a smaller alley, and had been showed to the office without even the need of asking.

Right now Harry was trying to get his head around what he had just heard.

"You sold it?" Harry asked, not believing his ears. "You sold Voldemort's horcrux? To whom?"

"I cannot discuss the matters of other customers with you, Mr. Potter," Axeheart answered. "But I can tell you that I'm proud that the combined Potter-Black account is now the biggest individual account we have. The Malfoy's no longer have that honour."

"The Malfoys... You sold the horcrux to Voldemort?"

"As I said, I cannot say anything about the transaction. But it would seem logical that Voldemort would be on top of the list of the most interested parties. And as it might have become public knowledge that we are inclined to accept the Death Eater Asset Confiscation Act your ministry is currently preparing he would also seem to be the party that has no problems with spending considerable amounts of money for various acquisitions."

"But don't you understand that Voldemort won't let you keep the money if he wins?" Harry argued, desperate to get the goblin see the situation from his point of view. "He will just kill every goblin and take the gold back."

Axeheart's eyes narrowed and his voice gained colder edge.

"Mr. Potter," the goblin said. "There hasn't been a time when certain groups or individuals haven't wished to kill us. And yet here we are. Don't come to us talking about the risks involved in being a goblin. Our actuaries have taken into account the possibility of Voldemort winning here in Britain, and should that risk come true, we will move our operations to the continent. We goblins run an international banking monopoly in an exceedingly hostile world; we do have contingencies in place should something happen on a local level."

"But, but..." Harry stammered, before Daphne interrupted him by placing a firm hand on his arm.

"Thank you for your time, goblin," she said without any warmth in her voice. "We will show ourselves out."

- O -

"How can they do that?" Harry asked as they got out of the bank. "Don't they think about other people at all?"

"No, they don't," Daphne answered. "The goblins are notorious for their ruthlessness. Though I have to say that this level of it sure surprised me. I thought that getting the Lestrange assets would have been enough."

"Yeah. They have their own culture, and we made a mistake in thinking that they would have been more like us," Harry said shaking his head. "But they are just greedy bastards, and there's nothing we can do about it. Even without Voldemort we wouldn't have enough muscle to fight the goblins, and they would retaliate by closing down all over the world. We're trapped, and they know it."

"What about now? We don't have the horcrux, and Voldemort knows we were very close at getting our hands on it. The rest of them are bound to be guarded like never before."

"I don't know," Harry answered. "Let's go back to the castle and talk with the others. And I'll need to send Hedwig to Remus and tell him to stop searching, or at least be more careful. Who knows what kind of traps Voldemort might have laid on where the locket was. Obviously it won't be there anymore, Voldemort's not stupid enough to leave his horcruxes laying about when he knows we have already located at least two of them."

Harry and Daphne walked silently to the apparation point through the crowded Diagon Alley, shopping temporarily forgotten. With only a little over two weeks to Christmas the street was full of witches and wizards buying presents and decorations, hurrying from one shop to other. The weather charms over the Alley caused snowflakes to fall slowly in the air and disappear just before they touched the ground, softening the busy sounds and making the rare sunlight shimmer beautifully, but neither of the teens seemed to notice the picturesque qualities of the main wizarding district, their minds focused on immortal dark wizards and greedy goblins.

Harry paid no mind to the fact that the two aurors guarding the apparition point seemed to be more nervous and alert than usual. He gathered Daphne into a firm embrace and apparated them both back to Scotland.

As soon as he managed to orient himself to the new location near the Shrieking Shack Harry realized something was terribly wrong. A faint smell of smoke was floating in the air, and he felt a sudden sense of dread creep in his mind. A distant sound of a man shouting for Lily to take the baby and run seemed to come from all directions at once.

"What is going on?" Daphne asked, looking down at the village where small amounts of smoke were rising from the main street and ragged, dark shapes were floating above it all.

Harry didn't answer. He had already brandished his wand and was focusing his thoughts on the girl next to him; on the summer days in the Windsor Great Park where he had taken her on Sirius' flying motorbike; on the nights spent in the Room of Requirement.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

- O -

Neville was contemplating the changes in his life as he enjoyed the taste of warmed butterbeer in Three Broomsticks. Nine months ago Bellatrix had escaped from Azkaban prompting Harry to start helping him individually in defence. Now Neville had a more realistic idea of what fighting the death eaters meant, and he also knew where to hit the bitch and with what spell. The desperate wish for revenge had turned into a calculated determination. Bellatrix no longer was the sole target of hot anger; Neville's ire had spread to cover all of the murderous bastards while diluting it to cold rage.

The fringe benefits of the transformation were also undeniable. Where the fifth year version of Neville would have been sitting in the sidelines watching while the others had fun, listening to the conversations, the young man he was now sat Hogsmeade with not one but two gorgeous girls.

"I heard Lavender has hooked up with Ron," Susan asked, turning to look at Neville, causing him to focus back on the situation on hand.

"Oh, yes," he said. "Those two were going on at it the whole evening yesterday. Can't say much about the technique, but the enthusiasm was there alright."

"Must be nice to have a boyfriend in the same house as you," Hannah said wistfully, looking at Neville. "I can't believe what it must be like for Harry and Daphne."

Neville snorted. "It's not like Harry ever cared about the curfew in the first place," he said. "But now they both have exemptions for it from Slughorn. Harry comes and goes as he pleases, and sometimes he comes to the tower only at the morning to change clothes."

"From Slughorn?" Susan asked. "But Harry doesn't even take potions, does he?"

"I don't know if I should talk about this, but Harry can get almost anything he wants from Slughorn," Neville explained. "The professor kind of owes Harry. He's for example 'supervising' all of Harry's detentions. I found that one out when Snape cornered Harry for running in the corridors one day. Harry just shrugged it off and went on."

"I bet Snape wasn't too happy with that."

"That's a suckers bet. But it's not like Snape can do much about it. Ever since he was revealed to be Dumbledore's spy last spring he's been a dead man walking as soon as he leaves the castle and the headmasters protection. Harry and Mr. Greengrass are pretty popular in the wizengamot, Snape would be thrown out of the castle the moment he steps over the line. And gran would be happy to help," Neville said taking a sip of butterbeer. "The only reason why Harry hasn't had him replaced is that he doesn't want to fight Dumbledore in the court, and he does the job just about as well as any defence professor we've had. And I believe Harry's counting on the curse on the position to take care of Snape for him."

"Where's Harry now, by the way?" Susan asked, looking around. "I haven't seen him since breakfast."

"He had some business to do with the goblins," Neville said, sounding a bit nervous. "It's not really my place to tell what that is."

Neville looked at the empty mugs on the table. "How about we go to do some shopping?" he asked. "I still need to buy some presents. We can come back for lunch later."

"That's fine," Hannah agreed. "I haven't done my shopping either."

Neville left a couple of coins behind and held the coat for Hannah, and the three left the table.

They had just reached the door when a loud explosion rattled the windows, sending Neville and the girls searching for cover reflexively. Students started to scream, and Neville heard sounds of spell fire from outside. He peeked over the window sill rising from the floor where he had dived.

"What's happening?" Hannah asked with frightened voice. "Neville, what's going on?"

"Death eaters," Neville answered, surprising himself with the lack of panic in his voice as he watched the scene outside. The death eaters had apparently taken the guards down with the explosion before they had had time to do anything. Neville saw a younger student take a cutting curse to the side and falling down.

"Damn," he said, turning to face the girls. "They are cursing people left and right, and there's no one trying to stop them."

Neville looked at the students in the inn. He saw looks of utter terror and shock, he saw people looking for cover under the tables, he saw a pair of Hufflepuff third years crying and hugging each other. He saw a boy standing in front of them, the wand in his hand pointing uncertainly toward the floor, looking at him for guidance.

Neville looked at the boy for what felt like an eternity. _What would Harry do in this situation? What should _he_ do?_

Neville turned to face Hannah, who was also waiting for him to take lead.

"Right," he said, uncertain of his options. "Listen to me," he said finally turning to address the other students, his voice rising over the frightened noise. "As you no doubt have guessed, we are under attack. The Death Eaters are out there, cursing everybody they can. The way I see it, we have two options: either we wait here while they maim and kill our friends before they come to kill us, too, or we can do something about the situation. Now, how many of you are in the DA?"

About ten hands went up, and Neville looked at the people. There was Padma and Parvati with Justin. There was Katie Bell with her friend Leanne. There were those seventh year Ravenclaws whose names Neville couldn't remember if his life depended on it.

"Okay," he said. "I want half of you to go out from the back and try to flank them. Stay hidden, and try not to get ambushed. Justin, you're in charge of that. Make it quick!"

Justin saluted Neville with a grin, and led the Patils and the Ravenclaws out of the back door.

"The rest of you, I want you to take positions at the windows. I'm going to go out through the front door myself and cross the street. I want you to cower for me, and then we can hopefully get those bastards in a three-way crossfire."

Hannah grabbed Neville's hand. "I'll go with you," she said with a voice that brokered no objection.

"I'll come too," Susan said. "The three of us can cover for each other and it'll make the crossfire more efficient than if you went alone."

Neville looked at the girls and, seeing the determination in their eyes, simply nodded.

"Ready?" he asked the students that had gathered in the front. "Alright, let's do this. And don't you dare to get hit."

Time seemed to slow down as Neville threw the door open and sprinted out with Hannah and Susan. The large windows vanished by magic, and massed spell fire erupted toward the Death Eaters, who were paying little attention to the surroundings as no one seemed to rise against them. Three curses of the first volley hit the closest enemy, causing him to go down with broken leg and a large, bloody gash in his side. The cry of anguish and the sounds of impacts alerted the rest of the black robed terrorists and they spun to face Neville and the girls as they reached the cover at the entrance to Scrivenshaft's Quill shop.

Neville briefly considered the skill level of the Death Eaters. They were standing still smack in the middle of the street, grouped together in a way that had proved disastrous very soon in the DA battles. Their shields seemed to hold against the spell chain of cutting curses and exploding hexes Neville opened up with, but that particular chain sacrificed the individual power of the spells for greater volume. None of the variants were lethal or even so destructive on their own, but the sheer mass of multicoloured bolts of light coming on one's face could easily break the concentration needed to sustain a strong shield, and if even one of them made it through it would cause enough pain to get the bastards with quick follow up curse.

Neville had to admit that despite the lack of common sense when it came to tactics the enemies weren't all that bad. After the first one of them had fallen in the opening salvo, only one other had been fallen victim of the crossfire, and some of them had even managed to move on the offensive with curses of their own flying against the defenders in the pub. But as Neville saw Justin peeking around the corner of Honeydukes behind the enemy, he knew the fight was practically over.

Working in flawless co-operation Padma and Parvati quickly transfigured some of the rubble in the street into a low wall for cover, while the Ravenclaws and Justin opened fire at the unprotected backs of the Death Eaters. Now caught in a literal kill-zone the enemies started to fall one after another, in total disarray.

Neville started to move out to secure the fallen enemies when he heard a cry of anguish and insane laughter from behind. Neville spun around and saw first Hannah on the ground curled in pain, and then Bellatrix Lestrange with her wand trained toward Hannah, a sadistic smile on her lips and mad gleam in her eyes.

"Bitch!" Neville shouted, throwing a string of curses at the witch. The flurry of spells caused Bellatrix to break her curse on Hannah, as she countered Neville's attack with casual ease.

"Aww, has little Neville got teeth?" she said with a mock-baby voice, throwing her own curse at Neville.

Even though his spell-casting had improved tremendously during the last year, Neville's reflexes and speed weren't nowhere near the level of Harry's, and he stumbled a little on the cobblestones of the High Street of Hogsmeade as he dodged the dangerous looking murky green bolt.

A sense of dread started to build in the back of Neville's mind. _'Leave her alone, you bastards!'_ he heard a distant voice shouting, overlaid with phantom laughter and screams of a woman.

Shaking the voices out of his mind Neville regained his footing and shot an overpowered blasting curse at Bellatrix, twisting out of way of instantly recognizable Cruciatus Curse.

"If you want to play with the bigger children, you need to do better than that," Bellatrix taunted deflecting the curse up in the air, where it faded harmlessly away. "School yard spells will get you only so far," she said firing yet another Cruciatus at Neville.

Neville snarled as the voices inside his head grew stronger. _'Where's the boy, Longbottom?' _a male voice asked. _'Our Lord wanted the boy, and we'll send him to hell for him.'_

Drawing strength from the dark emotions awakened by the sight of the torturer of his parents, Neville weaved his wand in a complicated pattern learned during hours of repetition with Harry. The impaling curse developed by Betelgeuse Black in the seventeenth century didn't have an incantation, but it shared some of the qualities of the unforgivable curses, namely the ability to barrel through almost any shields.

Neville watched with grim satisfaction as Bellatrix' eyes widened as the dark purple, almost black spell shot towards her. She dived to the side out of the way of the painfully fatal curse.

"Where did you learn that?" she hissed as she climbed back to her feet, all mocking forgotten. "That was Black family magic. _MY _family magic!"

"It pays to be friends with the Black of Blackmoor, instead of trying to kill him," Neville responded, keeping the pressure on the witch with a rapid succession of cutting and piercing curses designed to penetrate shields.

A staccato of incoming apparitions interrupted the duel between Neville and Bellatrix, signalling the arrival of aurors to the scene.

"You haven't seen the last of me, Longbottom," Bellatrix said, reaching inside her robes for her escape portkey. "And I will kill the half-blood Potter for stealing from my family, you can tell him that." With a activation word spoken under her breath she disappeared just before multiple stunners from the aurors passed through where she had been just a moment before.

"Dementors!" a sudden cry from the aurors refocused Neville's attention to what was going on around him. "Patronuses, everyone!"

Neville looked at the direction the auror was pointing at. At least two dozens of the shadowy creatures were descending towards the village, the coldness they brought with them causing heavy fog to fall down and reduce the visibility to minimum.

"Susan!" Neville shouted. "Get Hannah inside, and tell everybody who can to cast their patronuses. If we wait until they are here it'll be too late."

Susan, who was already taking care of Hannah nodded and helped still shivering Hannah on her feet and led her to the pub.

"What happened here?" the leader of the aurors asked Neville. "You should get inside, there's a bit too many dementors for comfort and we need our full focus to repel them."

"We can help," Neville answered, including Justin who had come to ask for further instructions while the girls were tying up the last of the enemies. "Harry's been teaching us to cast the patronus since last year, and we already fought the death eaters."

"You what?" the auror asked, only now recognizing that the Patil twins were securing prisoners and not tending to injured as he had first thought. "And Harry who?"

"Potter. Harry Potter. And it wasn't even too hard. We had them surrounded, they didn't stand a chance."

The auror didn't have time to respond before three patronuses shot out of the pub, astonishing him. The dog, seagull and badger took defensive positions around the twins, who had finished tying up the death eaters and were levitating them out of the open.

"Right," the auror said, reassessing the situation. "Men! We'll secure the pub as a base of operations. Let's split up and check that there aren't any wounded in the side streets and that everyone is safely inside. Hill, Johnson! Help those girls with the prisoners! And keep your patronuses ready!"

The auror turned back to Neville. "Auror captain John Roberts, pleasure to meet you," he introduced himself handing out his hand. "I knew Potter was damn good, hell, he even beat me when we sparred once, but I didn't know he was teaching other students to fight."

"Neville Longbottom," Neville said, taking the offered hand and giving a short shake. "Harry started teaching us last year when Fudge was denying that Voldemort was back and Umbridge wasn't teaching anything. This year we've had more practical approach to it. It's good fun, and apparently it's been useful, too."

"I'll say. And good thing, too. We would really be in deep shit if those death eaters were still standing in addition to the dementors."

Captain Roberts turned to looked at the clean-up operation under way. The aurors had teamed up with their partners, and were disappearing into the smaller alleys of the High Street. Patronuses were keeping the dementors at bay, while a triage was built up right next to the entrance to the three broomsticks.

"Sir!" someone shouted "There's too many of them! I think they are all here, they were hidden in the damn fog!"

An auror was running towards Roberts and Neville, and his partner was only just holding his own against a verifiable horde of dementors, his patronus allowing him to retreat towards the rest of the group.

"Defensive positions!" Roberts shouted with magically amplified voice. "Fall back to the pub and hold your ground! We have dozens of students inside, and I'll be damned if I let those demons get their hands on them!"

The aurors and the DA came running towards the Three Broomsticks, some levitating the wounded they had found lying in the streets of the village, the ones who were maintaining the patronuses visibly straining against the pressure of the dementor horde.

Soon the defenders were standing in the doorway of the pub, their number already falling down. Justin had ordered Padma and Parvati inside, and was himself looking ready to faint. One of the aurors had fallen to ground and was protecting his head with his hands, resisting the efforts of another who was trying to get him up and to safety.

"Now would be a good time for a miracle," the auror captain said with strained voice, his bloodhound patronus growling at the dementors. "We can't hold them for much longer."

Neville shook his head. "I'm all out of ideas. Impossible situations are more Harry's speciality."

Neville's watch chose that moment to warm up. "Neville, Hermione? Where are you?" a small, concerned voice came for the timepiece. "Are you okay?"

"Harry!" Neville said, smacking his head for forgetting the watches Harry had given them for just this kind of situations. He immediately brought his wrist to his face and disabled the silencing charm around the transmitter.

"It's good to hear you, Harry!" he said. "I'm at the three broomsticks. There's a a lot of dementors, and we can't hold them back for much longer. I think Hermione's in the castle, reading for the exams."

"Hold on for a while longer, I'm coming," Harry responded, before the line went silent again.

Encouraged by the news that help was coming the aurors redoubled their efforts, and the advance of the dementor horde was pushed back for a couple of yards.

Ethereal light seemed to fill the street before a huge silvery stag came charging down from the direction of the Shrieking Shack. The guardian lowered its head and gored in the ranks of the foul creatures, causing them to fly around like bowling pins. As the pressure from the dementors lessened, five more silvery animals joined the fight, and took after the stag in it's charge.

The auror captain looked at Harry's patronus in awe, and Neville gave a slight chuckle.

"I can't give you a miracle," he said, "but Harry can."

- O -

Harry jogged down to the village Daphne following close by. The aurors had already gained control of the situation, and were hoarding the remaining dementors into smaller groups and transfiguring shackles to keep them from escaping again. A special team from the department of mysteries would need to come in to take care of them on a more permanent basis, but the transfigured chains would be good enough until then.

"Neville!" Harry shouted as he spotted his friend near the entrance to the three broomsticks. "Roberts," he added as he recognized the auror Neville was talking with. "What happened?"

"Death eaters," Neville answered. "We were leaving the pub to do our shopping when there was this huge explosion, and then they started cursing everyone left and right. I gathered the DA, and we flanked them, fought them and beat them. They really suck at tactics, did you know?"

"Yeah, I know. They are all like Malfoy. So confident of their superiority that they can't see that they are mediocre at best. And they have no sense of teamwork. But what about the dementors?"

"Well, after we had the goons down Bellatrix caught Hannah from behind with cruciatus. I fought her for a while until the aurors arrived. She escaped, and the dementors attacked soon after."

"How about the students? Was anyone hurt?"

"I fyou don't count the enemies, we have two students and three villagers dead," Roberts said. "Third student probably won't walk again, at least not with his own legs. The rest should be okay after a few potions and good rest."

There was a silence as both students seemed to think about their classmates that wouldn't come back any more.

"This just doesn't seem to make any sense," Harry said finally, shaking his head. "Clearly this wasn't just another raid, what with all the dementors and Bellatrix here, but they didn't seem to have any objective. This doesn't feel like Voldemort's style."

Before either Neville or Roberts had time to say anything, a shout from behind caught Harry's attention.

"Daphne!" Tracey shouted, running towards her friend, two aurors following her with brisk pace. "Daphne, they took Astoria!"

"What? No! Not Astoria!" Daphne cried out. "What happened?"

"I was in the Honeydukes browsing the goods when they came in and demanded everyone to lower their wands. I was able to disillusion myself and hide in a corner, but they took everyone else. Everyone! They stunned them, and portkeyed them away. And they killed the shopkeeper. There was so much blood. I've never been so scared."

Both girls were sobbing uncontrollably, hugging each other. Harry looked at his girlfriend uncertain about what he should do. Daphne had always been the stronger and more controlled of the two, and Harry had never been good with crying witches.

A pained laughter came from the direction of the bound prisoners.

"The Dark Lord will have us freed before we even have time to get comfortable," one of the death eaters said. Harry recognized the face from the Daily Prophet, but couldn't connect it to a name.

"Really, Potter, Hogwarts?" he mocked. "Do you have four-posters for us there? I remember Hogwarts had really nice beds when I was there. Azkaban was a prison, but Hogwarts will be a holiday"

A month of frustration and stress had stretched Harry near his breaking point. The disappointment with the goblins had only made it worse. Watching his girlfriend crying over the kidnapping of her sister while listening to the mocking of a death eater was the final straw, and something snapped inside Harry.

"Where are they held?" he asked the prisoner, training his wand at him. "Where!"

The death eater laughed. "Sorry, kid, but I've been crucio'd by the Dark Lord, and I've been in Azkaban. You don't exactly scare me."

"Fine," Harry ground out. "Then I'll have to do it the hard way. _Legilimens!_"

After Daphne had first learned about Harry's occlumency studies, she had become extremely interested in the mind arts in general. After reading through the book Harry had on the subject she had insisted that Harry should learn also the legilimency instead of only occlumency; after all, she had argued, it would only make defending easier if you knew what you were defending against.

Harry was nowhere near the wandless level of Snape or Dumbledore, but against undefended minds he could easily get what he was looking for. And as the art was an extremely obscure one, almost every mind would be unprotected. The boastful death eater was no exception.

_"Nott," Voldemort said to a student kneeling in front of him. They were in a large hall where about two dozen death eaters were gathered for mission briefing. "Your father was a loyal follower of mine. I have decided to give you an opportunity to follow on his footsteps."_

_Voldemort rose on his feet and addressed the assembled death eaters. "Today we will attack Hogsmeade. Nott will go in first and blend in the crowd, and he will blow up the guards in there with a potion he'll receive from our potions master. After that most of you will attack and cause as much mayhem as possible, while Nott will retreat and put on his mask. After Nott gets back, he, Morgan, Pucey and Sparrow will enter a shop in the village and kidnap all students inside and kill any adult witches and wizards. They will portkey the students to Nott's home. It has good wards and enough space, and no one will suspect it to be in our use after the elder Nott died a month ago. When this operation is done, Nott will receive the position among my ranks his blood deserves, before returning to the school and work there against the traitor Snape and the old fool."_

_Voldemort waved his wand and conjured a bone white skull shaped mask and gave it to Nott. "Now go, and show the muggle loving fools what a real wizard can do!"_

Harry retreated from the mind of the death eater, his blood cold as ice. Nott! He had spent entire month obsessing over Malfoy, and then it was another snake that bit him in the end.

He looked at the death eater with disgust. "Nott," he said.

The death eater laughed again. "You've got some skill, boy," he said. "I didn't recognize that spell. But how does it feel to be outmanoeuvred by your own classmates? Not so mighty, are you now, Potter? Who knows, maybe your girl will be the next."

Harry had had enough of the death eater. He knew where the students were, and he didn't need to listen his taunting. _"Stupefy!"_

"What happened?" the auror captain asked, having seen the red light of the stunning spell but missing the rest of the interchange.

"The students are held in the Nott home," Harry said with grim tone, ignoring the question. "And I'm going to go and get them back."

"Nott?" Roberts asked. "But they are an ancient family, and have ancient wards around their home. It would take days for a team of curse breakers to get through them."

"There is a way," Harry said, nodding towards the unconscious death eater. "He will help us in."

"Alright," the captain said, accepting Harry's word. "I'll gather my men, we'll be ready when you are."

Harry looked at the auror, calculating his trustworthiness.

"My way won't be exactly legal," he said carefully.

Roberts barked a short laugh. "I've heard what you have done, son, and you should have been arrested many times already. The fact that you haven't means that you must have a damn good reason for what you are doing; Amelia doesn't play favourites. Besides, my niece, my god-daughter, she's on her second year right now. One year later, and she might well have been in that shop. But I'll assign my more uptight men to writing a report of today, if that's okay with you?"

"Fine. Meet me at the Shrieking Shack in five, and take the prisoner with you. I need to go get some tools."

- O -

The ancestral home of the House of Nott had been located in the moors of southern Scotland since the 14th century. The sturdy stone building stood on a small hill in the bottom of a valley, with a single centuries old oak reaching it's canopy over the house. About a hundred yards uphill from the gates and the ward line was a small crop of trees where a portkey had silently dropped a small force of half a dozen aurors, two students and a bound death eater just a short while ago. Only a soft hoot of an owl who had been disturbed by their arrival signalled the valley that something was about to happen.

"What did you have in mind for the wards?" the leader of the aurors asked Harry in a hushed voice, eyeing the house warily. Attacking homes with ancient wards was typically considered futile effort by the aurors, and any attempts needed to be planned meticulously in advance with enough manpower at hand. Usually the politics involved with the old families meant that by the time the force got all go from the higher ups, anything of interest that might have been in the targeted home would be long gone before the wards went down. This was the first time for any of the aurors when they were going against a well defended home without planning or even a team of ward breakers.

Harry drew a long, polished wooden box out of his pocket.

"You might know that Sirius Black was my godfather," he said. "He was the last of his family, and he left everything to me. And the Blacks were nothing if not innovative."

Roberts looked at the box and Harry with new respect. The Blacks still had their reputation, even when the family was more or less dead. Bellatrix Lestrange and Sirius Black had been the most infamous inmates of Azkaban when he had made the rounds as guard there after his graduation from the academy, and even at the times of peace the two had inspired fear in the guards, despite the sturdy bars and dementors in between.

"Tie the prisoner to a tree, facing the house," Harry instructed. "And after that I'd rather you look away. It's not going to be pleasant."

Harry opened the box. Inside, laying in deep black velvet was what looked like a two-ended wand, with two ten inch lengths of black wood extending from a silver handle in the middle. The handle was sculpted to have a head of snake at one end and that of a wolf in another, and the wood was covered by an intricate design of runes and hair thin lines, also in silver. The craftsmanship of the object was exquisite, and if it hadn't emitted unmistakable aura of dread and destruction, one would have been hard pressed to not to call it beautiful.

Harry grabbed a solid gip of the handle and looked at the house.

"Neville," he said. "Would you knock on the door? It's only polite to let our hosts know we're are coming."

Neville understood immediately what Harry meant, and launched an exploding curse towards the gates. The spell curved gracefully over the empty space between their vantage point and the gate, illuminating the darkening night with murky yellow flickering light. A loud gong reverberated around the valley as the wards flared, easily absorbing the impact.

Shouts of alert sounded from the house, and dark shadows emerged at the illuminated windows, looking out to the darkness. The door opened and two figures came out to look what was happening.

Harry walked to the bound prisoner and woke him up with a quick spell. Before he had time to say anything, Harry dug his wand at the chin of the death eater.

"You said that being imprisoned in Hogwarts wouldn't be enough of a punishment for you," Harry said with a low voice. "And I agree. That's why you'll have a more just punishment here and now."

Harry looked down at the house, where three more enemies had come out of the building. They were gesturing towards the crop of trees in the shadow of which Harry and his team was standing.

"Your friends over there have my friends as prisoners. You will help me to get them back," Harry continued.

"I will never help you! The Dark Lord will crush you, and your friends!"

"Well, it's a good thing then that you have no choice in the matter," Harry said, raising his hand with the black rod in it, and with a sharp jab stabbed the death eater in the chest. The rod of wood, helped with the magic imbued in it went through the skin and flesh with ease, embedding itself to the body of the man up to the handle.

The prisoner grunted with pain, and stared down at his chest, where Harry was still gripping the handle tightly. His bewilderment at being stabbed by the poster boy of the light side lasted until the first drop of his blood touched the fangs of the silver snake, and his world exploded in blinding pain, worse than any curse he had been subjected to before.

A beam of magic as bright as the sun erupted from the other end of the rod, flooding the entire valley with bright white light and dark shadows. The death eater's screams of anguish were drowned by the massive groan from the wards as they buckled under the onslaught of magic, held in place by Harry who had to fight against the trashing of the man.

Lightning-like bolts of magic arched out of the beam as the ward stones in the gate were gradually turning dull red from the heat generated by the attack, incinerating shrubs and scorching the earth where they touched the ground. Neville and the others were looking at the unbelievable display of magic with their mouths open. Nothing like that hadn't been seen for at least fifty years, after the duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald in the forties.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but in reality was only a couple of minutes the ancient wards around the Nott home gave in with an ear-shattering bang, and the gates were thrown open by such a force that the thick iron beams it was made of were bent beyond recognition. The beam of magic gouged a deep gash in the ground, slashing against the stone and breaking windows of the house before Harry yanked the rod out of the death eater and threw it on the ground, where it immediately caught in fire and was reduced to ash before his eyes, accompanied by a hiss from the damp soil. The death eater gave one last sigh before his upper body slumped against the ropes, the life force having escaped him.

In the eerie silence that followed the roaring noise and blinding lights the groaning cry from the ancient oak as it ever so slowly began to topple over from the massive gash in it's trunk reached every part of the valley. The old tree that had seen generation after generation of Notts being born, grow and die under it's branches came crashing down over the family graveyard, crushing tombstones and monuments under it's enormous weight.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone about this," Harry said, after a suitably long silence appropriate for an event of such magnitude. "It's better for everybody if it isn't known that what just happened is in fact possible."

The aurors and Neville nodded, still not quite believing what they had seen. Harry observed the grounds of the house, where now six people were out, looking out waiting for the next wave of the attack.

"Let's move out, then," he said. "Roberts, take your men at the center. Neville and I will disillusion ourselves and flank them, and when you engage them we will hit them from the sides. Let's go get the students back."

Harry had partaken in enough training sessions with the aurors to know their attack pattern by heart. The six of them paired up with their partners in a loose formation where they were able to efficiently cover for each other, while dividing the responsibility of watching the flanks between the two. The tactic had a slight disadvantage of favouring open spaces over cover and concealment, but then again the aurors were mainly law enforcers, not soldiers.

Harry sprinted disillusioned along the left flank, and reached the cover of the fallen oak just when the exchange of curses between the aurors and the death eaters opened up. He signalled the equally invisible Neville on the other side, and they opened fire against the unprotected flanks of the enemies from both directions simultaneously.

First two enemies were down in as many seconds, and the ranks of the death eaters fell into disarray immediately after. One of the death eaters stumbled as the head of one of his comrades was turned to mush by a reductor from the aurors, and fell down on the ground dodging Neville's spell, losing his mask. Harry immediately recognized Nott's face, and launched a furious attack against the Slytherin, finally having a ready target to unleash the frustration that had plagued him since Halloween.

Nott's eyes widened at the onslaught of curses from Harry, and he rolled on the ground dodging the first volley at the cost of losing his wand, and managed to grab a portkey only seconds before the patch of ground he had been on was burned to crisp and turned over by the second.

Harry cursed at the missed opportunity of catching the bastard responsible for the kidnapping, and turned his focus at the last two enemies. They didn't last long being surrounded and outnumbered, and soon only Harry, Neville and the aurors were left standing.

"Alright, let's find the hostages and get out of here before Nott finds help," Harry said, cancelling the invisibility and walking in to meet the others. Two of the aurors were about to portkey to the ministry with the four death eaters who were still alive, one of them nursing a flesh wound from a cutting curse he hadn't been able to block.

The captured students were found easily. The scared girls and boys were huddled in a basement room, older students trying to console the younger. Tear stains could be seen in their faces as the aurors brought them up to the more brightly illuminated ground floor and readied them for transport out.

"Where's Astoria?" Harry asked, when he didn't see the sister of his girlfriend among the others. A sudden sense of dread filled him as he realized that she might have been targeted simply because of Daphne's involvement with him.

"Nott took her," a Slytherin fifth year answered silently. "He was saying that he would at least take the sister, if he couldn't have Daphne."

Harry took off and climbed the stairs three steps at a time. The long faced Notts of generations long past were making disdainful noises in the portraits, but none of them dared to raise their voice against the young warrior who had successfully conquered their ancestral home. The door to the master bedroom was slightly ajar at the end of the hall in the second floor. Harry strode the distance and entered the room. The small frame of a fourteen year old girl was curled in a ball on the bed, and Harry could see her body spasm sporadically at the rhythm of silent sniffs.

Harry approached Astoria carefully, and touched her shoulder as gently as he could. The girl shied away from the touch, drawing her tattered robes tighter around her and sobbed.

"Shh..." Harry said. "Nott's gone, and he won't touch you ever again. I'll promise."

The girl sobbed again, but nodded his head, accepting the promise.

"We'll need to go now," Harry continued. "Nott might come back with more men, and we can't fight them here."

Astoria turned to look at Harry with her puffy red eyes. "Okay," she said with a tiny voice.

Harry gathered the girl on his arms, and lifted her up. Astoria snaked her arms around Harry and hid her face in his shoulder.

Harry walked down the stairs and out of the door, where the rest were waiting for him. He nodded at Roberts' questioning look.

"Burn it all down."

-o0oOo0o-


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

-o0oOo0o-

Harry was sitting in the living room of his house, looking out to the darkness through the glass wall. December in southern England was typically bleak, with freezing drizzle permeating the air and finding it's way through any amount of clothing. A glass of firewhiskey was sitting on a table next to a freshly opened bottle, only slightly out of Harry's reach.

Dumbledore had reacted to the attack and deaths of students by cancelling the end of term exams and sending the students home a week early. Hermione had left the country to meet her parents, and Daphne had wanted to spend some time alone with her family, which Harry understood perfectly. It was one thing to speculate about how much greater risk of being targeted siding with Harry would put her and her family in, and a completely different thing altogether to actually have Astoria assaulted by Nott.

Spending the Christmas with Daphne had been in the plans for months now. Harry still intended to visit the Greengrasses, but staying with them with the situation being what it was would have been awkward at best. So, alone he was. Neville had of course invited him to stay at the Longbottom manor, but Harry actually preferred being alone, thinking. Well, not completely alone.

"I killed the Death Eater in cold blood. What does that make me?" Harry asked Charlus, avoiding eye contact with the portrait that was hanging on a wall to Harry's left.

"I was once thinking about the same thing," Charlus answered. "I found an old proverb that said 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. I took that as a warning that actions can be wrong no matter how noble purpose you did them for."

Harry bowed his head, resting his face on his hands.

"Then I dug a little more," Charlus continued, "—and found another quote. That one said that 'All that is needed for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing'. It has the opposite meaning: it's always easier to do nothing and deflect the responsibility to others, but if no one acts on the good intentions we have, we still go to hell. The road just isn't paved."

Harry turned to look at Charlus and smiled a little. "I remember Daphne saying something similar when Goyle died in the summer."

"Well, she's a smart girl. But I think it doesn't really matter which one of those two is right. My take on the issue is that you can do whatever you think is right, as long as you take the full responsibility of your actions. As long as you accept that what you did was your choice and no one else's, you'll be alright. And whether the others think you're 'dark' or not is really their problem, not yours. It's when you start deflecting that responsibility by saying that you had no other choice or that what you did was 'for the greater good' or 'for the purity of blood' that you need to start worrying. It's the first sign that you are doing things you really shouldn't be doing. And really, you already saved that man's life once. I heard what you did in Wizengamot after Halloween."

"What? But that was Dumbledore. I really did nothing."

"Hah! I listened a recording of that session. All Dumbledore had was empty words and ideology. It was your suggestion that really offered a workable solution for the other Lords and Ladies. The hard-liners would be executing Death Eaters as we speak if it wasn't for you. And think about it: would you think of them as killers, even though their actions would have caused a lot more death than your action at the Nott house?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes, deep in thought. A silence ensued between the painting a the teenager.

Finally Harry opened his eyes and looked at Charlus, who was patiently waiting for him. "But what about Nott?" he asked. "I want him dead, too. I want revenge for what he did to Astoria, for ruining yet another Christmas for me. And I know revenge is not a good reason for doing anything."

Charlus' eyes hardened. "I won't argue against you in that, Harry. Rapists are the worst of the worst, they deserve no mercy. The thing I told you before, that had made me to think about the morality of killing? I killed a rapist once, when I was younger. I was coming from a theatre with Dorea, when we heard a scream from an alley nearby. There was this muggle forcing himself to a woman, and I reacted with instinct. The bastard never had a chance, and the poor girl had to be obliviated later."

Charlus seemed to fall deeper into his memories. "I still think it was my actions that night that made the Blacks really accept me, you know," he said. "It showed them that I could defend Dorea if needed, and be decisive in doing so."

Harry clenched his jaw resolutely, and rose from his chair. He took the glass of firewhiskey from the table and carefully poured the liquid back into the bottle without spilling a drop.

"Dobby!" he called as he screwed the cap back on the bottle, and the elf appeared with a pop. "I need you to find out where Nott is hiding. And would you please go to Tonks and say I need to speak with her?"

The elf nodded ecclesiastically and popped away. Harry looked out into the darkness where the drizzle had turned into a proper downpour. He had a score to settle with a bastard of a Death Eater.

- O -

The ministry Winter Solstice party was one of the oldest existing traditions in the Wizarding Britain. The earliest recordings about the predecessor of the occasion could be found in runic inscriptions drawn in the stones of Stonehenge. The celestial phenomenon had marked a sacred day when all hostilities were ceased and warring parties were able to come to the same table and discuss their issues without a fear of being killed. The importance of the day had lessened when the Romans introduced a central government to the Islands, but the tradition persisted and was also a groundwork for the Gathering of Wizards that later evolved into modern Wizengamot. The Ministry of Magic had hosted a party on the day ever since it's formation in the late 17th century.

Harry was standing in the packed atrium watching the wizards and witches mingle with each other. He hated being in a crowd, but he understood that being seen was important. He had accepted his role as something more than an ordinary schoolboy: he was a symbol, something that made the people around rally for a common goal, that gave hope that the war could be won. And he also wanted to establish a waterproof alibi for his plans later today.

A continuous stream of people he had never seen was coming to greet him, and Harry was getting frustrated as he still had seen no sign of Tonks. He had to admit that he hadn't thought this part of the plan completely through. Tonks was supposed to be providing security for the party, undercover, and having Tonks undercover meant that recognizing her in the crowd would be impossible.

Harry was once again interrupted in his searching by a middle aged wizard dressed in navy blue robes with gold trimmings. He looked like an ordinary shopkeeper, and Harry was sure he hadn't seen the face anywhere before.

"Ah, Mr. Potter!" the man greeted enthusiastically. "Jeremy Nolton, It's an honour to meet you!"

Harry took the offered hand and shook it dutifully.

"The honour is all mine, I'm sure," Harry answered, forcing a polite smile on his face.

"No, I've been a great fan of yours for a long time," the man said. "But I'll leave you for now, I'm sure well bump into each other during the night."

The man shook Harry's hand one more time, and winked at him. Harry was startled to see the eye change colour from blue to the exact same brilliant emerald green he knew so well from mirror, and before he had time to react the "man" had already wondered away disappearing into the crowd.

Harry shook his head. Tonks' disguise sure was good.

Soon after Harry's encounter with Tonks one of the officials came to fetch Harry. He had been given the chance to give a celebratory speech in the party, and after a brief negotiation with Charlus he had chosen to agree.

Harry climbed to the podium where Amelia was saying her introductory words. He looked around to the people who were now all facing him and the minister. A few familiar face was scattered among the sea of unfamiliar ones. Harry had noticed that Daphne's father wasn't in attendance, but he thought it was only natural that the man wouldn't want to leave his family alone.

Finally it was Harry's turn, and he walked to the lectern focusing on what he had practised with Charlus.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Lords and Ladies," he started. "I'm humbled for this opportunity to speak in this occasion; it's not everyday one gets to address a group such as this, and even less often one gets to do so as young as I am now. I understand I was trusted with this great responsibility because of my efforts in this war, and while I'm the first to acknowledge that I've had a lot of help I also understand that I'm held as a symbol of hope, and that I'm therefore expected to have answers that others might not have. Let me say right here and now that I do not believe that is the case."

Harry took a small pause, and sipped from a glass of water on the lectern as there was some murmuring in the crowd.

"The Death Eaters stroke against us again one week ago in Hogsmeade. This is unacceptable," He continued more forcefully. "The Death Eaters claim to protect our tradition and culture, yet they destroyed priceless pieces of our history when the building with _The Unicorn Antiques_ was burned down in the attack. They claim to protect our future, yet they deliberately attacked the village when there were students visiting, and killed two of them, one of which was my team mate in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They claim to protect the bloodlines, yet they kill purebloods as easily as first generation witches and wizards, claiming them 'blood traitors' for not joining them in their foolish quest for domination. Not to mention that the leader of them, the self styled Dark Lord Voldemort, is actually a half blood himself, a son of a witch and a muggle."

Gasps and shrieks were heard from the crowd at the mention of the feared name as well as the revelation of Voldemort's parentage.

"The attack against the only all-wizarding village in Britain was clearly planned for maximum damage," Harry continued, silencing the crowd. "In addition to death eaters a host of dementors attacked the civilians in the village, while a large group of students were kidnapped. Whether they were to be used as hostages or in some sick and twisted ritual I do not know. What I do know is that a group of students, and I'm proud to call them my friends, successfully rose against the barbaric, cowardly attackers and managed to subdue them before the tragedy had time to reach any greater levels, allowing the aurors who responded to emergency calls to move swiftly to rescue the kidnapped children. It wasn't me or some mythical hero I've been made to be who saved the village; it was a group of determined young people who by working together were able to overcome the enemy.

"Witches and Wizards, do you not all carry a wand with you? Do you not know how to use them? The Death Eaters represent a tiny minority of the population of wizarding world. If we all rise against them, they stand no chance. I am not saying that we should become vigilantes and hunt them down ourselves. No, that is the job for our brave aurors who have the training and the legal authority to do so. What I am saying that the next time the masked terrorists attack our villages, our businesses — our lives — that instead of hiding and running away you stand and fight, and delay the bastards until the law enforcement has time to arrive and bag them. A group of students showed us week ago it is possible. If the thousands of other witches and wizards living in Hogsmeade had done the same, the fight would have been over before it started."

Harry took a deep breath and forced his magic out like he had learned when rehearsing with Charlus. His eyes seemed to glow with power, his untamed hair waving in ethereal breeze. A halo of light seemed to frame his head. Dozens of cameras were flashing as the photographers recognized the iconic image they had in front of them.

"I alone cannot win this war. No one can win a war alone. But there is nothing we cannot achieve if we work together, no magic can force us down if we stand as one. To the Death Eaters I say only this: we are coming for you. There is nowhere you can run to, there is no place you can hide in, and you will not win."

- O -

Soon after Harry had extracted himself from the well wishers and supporters that had surrounded him immediately when he had srepped down from the podium one of the uniformed aurors in guard approached him with an envelope.

"An elf came by and asked to give this to you, Lord Potter," the auror said, handing the envelope to Harry. "We already checked it for curses and poisons."

"Thank you," Harry said, taking the offered envelope. "I was expecting this."

The auror gave a slight bow and left Harry to examine the message. The were no markings in the envelope, and when Harry saw no one watching as he looked around he opened it, and took the note out. There were only three short lines written in Dobby's distinctive scrawl.

_Master Harry Potter sir, _

_Nott is at home_

_Knockturn Alley 53, second floor_

Harry folded the note and put it in his pocket searching for Tonks in the crowd. He quickly spotted 'Nolton' lounging by the bar, watching the guests intently while still managing to look perfectly harmless. Harry was pretty sure that despite it's toxic colour the liquid in her glass was actually pure water, or at least something not alcoholic.

Tonks caught Harry's eye, and a small sign later she emptied her glass with one pull and started walking towards the toilets with slightly wobbling gait. Harry smiled at the acting and followed suit.

Tonks was already weaving wards around the room when Harry entered.

"Great speech," she said. "I really could see the people standing that much straighter as you finished. And that magic trick you pulled! Our little Harry is all grown up!" Tonks teased.

"Thanks, I think," Harry answered. "Where did you find him?" he asked, gesturing at Tonks' current appearance.

"Oh, this? It was just some muggle hairdresser. It was very easy to get the hair."

Tonks opened the buttons of her robes and gave Harry a vial of potion. "I already mixed it in," she said.

Harry had also stepped out of his robes and shoes, and threw the liquid down his throat. One slightly painful transformation later Harry looked at the mirror, and saw a greying middle aged man looking back at him. Tonks came back at him, sporting unruly black hair and strikingly green eyes.

"How nice to meet you again, Mr. Nolton," she said with a smirk that Harry thought was slightly off on his face.

"You too, Mr. Potter," Harry replied with a smile, as he straightened his new navy blue robes.

"This shouldn't take more than hour," he continued with more serious tone. "You can excuse yourself then and leave. Just try not to embarrass me too much, alright Tonks?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Nolton," she teased. "I think I can take care of my own reputation just fine."

Harry sighed, shook his head and turned to leave. Tonks grabbed his arm before he got too far.

"Just be careful, Harry. Will you?" she asked with genuine concern in her voice.

"I will, don't worry," Harry answered.

Both Harry Potter and Jeremy Nolton were seen leaving the toilets one after another, Potter heading back to the party while Nolton walked determinately towards the exit.

- O -

A figure wearing a dark grey cloak over his navy blue robes with a hood concealing his face appeared to the Diagon Alley with a silent crack. He looked around, and seeing no one in the already deserted street paying him any attention, he strode towards the entrance to the Knockturn Alley.

An aura of purpose and danger kept whores and criminals away from the figure, as he navigated his way down the narrow street towards his target. The doorway of the residential building in number 53 was blocked by a man dressed in ragged clothes smelling strongly of alcohol and various mind altering potions, drooling on his sleeve as he slept.

Harry kicked the man with his boot and grunted. The man was immediately shaken awake, and quickly scampered away as he took in Harry's dark and menacing appearance. The lock in the door had been broken ages ago, and Harry carefully stepped in. He silenced his steps and walked up the worn stairs to the second floor. As he reached the right door Harry drew his wand and cast a couple of diagnostic spells on it.

Theodore Nott was clearly an above average student for a sixth year, but Harry had spent the last year intensively training for one purpose only, and had the skill and power needed to go toe to toe against two fully qualified aurors now. The locking and privacy wards protecting the door in a ramshackle building in the Knockturn Alley wouldn't be able to stop him if he had a bad day, and definitely not when he was on a mission.

Harry dissillusioned himself and quickly overpowered the protections on the door. The door opened silently inwards as Harry sneaked into the apartment, that, while being clearly old and worn, had clean and comfortable air to it. He heard water running in the bathroom. _Perfect_, Harry thought, and smiled. He leaned against the living room wall where he had an unobstructed view towards the bathroom door, and settled for a wait, his wand ready.

Four minutes later the sound of the water stopped, and a after a while a half-naked Theodore Nott stepped out of the bathroom. Harry didn't waste any time announcing his presence but nailed him with a silent _Petrificus Totalus_ to the back. The Slytherin immediately went rigid and fell face first to the floor with a loud thump.

Harry walked to the immobilized young man and levitated him up with a flick of his wand. He conjured ropes around him and stuck him to the wall with a sticking charm.

"Hello, Nott. Fancy seeing you here," Harry said. He noticed for his immense satisfaction that his polyjuiced form was taller than the Slytherin, which allowed him to look down at him when he spoke.

"Imagine my displeasure when I found out that you had become a Death Eater," he continued, looking pointedly at the fresh looking Dark Mark on Nott's bare arm. "I had thought you a smarter version of Draco; someone who wouldn't just rush to kiss the boots of a megalomaniac who calls himself a Dark Lord. But no, you just had to go and do it. Didn't your father's fate teach you anything?"

Harry turned away from the death eater and looked around the apartment. "Nice place you have here, by the way," he said. "Not quite as nice as your family's house, but then that has suffered some damage, hasn't it? War, it's a terrible thing. It's a pity your side hasn't really learned how terrible it can be, isn't it? But we can hope that they can still learn. Example is a powerful tool."

Harry turned back to the now clearly scared Nott.

"You know, if you were just an ordinary Death Eater, I might have just given you to the aurors. As you are still young, I might even have defended you in the Wizengamot, saying that you were just misled by Snape and your parents and the other Slytherins, that it really wasn't all your fault that you became what you are today. But you took it further than that. You decided that it was your right to force yourself on Astoria. On my girlfriend's younger sister. Now that I cannot ever forgive."

The body-bind curse chose that moment to fail and Nott found himself able to talk again.

"Potter," he said.

"Yes," Harry said. "And isn't it nice that my name will be your last word in this world?"

- O -

Tonks found Harry sitting in his dark living room, a half empty bottle of firewhiskey on a table in front of him. The blood stained navy blue robes of 'Nolton' were hanging from his shoulders, too large for his own frame.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted from the doorway, knocking on the wall. "You know, it was truly eye-opening to spend time as you in the party. All those looks from the younger women! And some men, too. And I swear half of those stuffy pureblood lords were just hoping for an opening to come and start negotiating marriage with you and some girl in their family. It was tempting, I tell you that."

Harry turned his head to look at the bubbly auror with bleary eyes. Tonks looked herself again, complete with the bubblegum pink hair, and she had Harry's dress robes with her in a bag. "I killed a man only hours ago, Tonks," he said. "I'm really not in the mood for that."

"Well, that was the plan, wasn't it?" Tonks said with a shrug and sat down next to Harry. "I just came to drop your clothes. You don't mind if I pour myself a glass?" she asked, reaching for the bottle.

"No, no. Go ahead."

Tonks poured a generous measure for herself, and sipped the amber liquid. She cocked her head in appreciation: the eighty years old stuff from Charlus' old stash was certainly better than what she had become used to as a student in Hogwarts and later as an auror cadet.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked Harry after she had made herself comfortable.

"No, not really," Harry answered. "I talked about it with Charlus before, and I can take it. It's just that, well... It's easier to talk about killing someone than actually doing it, you know?"

Harry sighed. "All I can do is to hope that what I did will be enough to warn the other idiots that they really shouldn't join Voldemort. Who knows, maybe I won't need to do this so many times again."

"That's a good thing to hope for," Tonks agreed. "You know my mother is a Black, right? Well, she wasn't too fond of me joining the aurors, but when I was accepted to the academy she came to me and said, 'Nymphadora, if you ever get into a situation where it's either you or the other guy, make sure it's the other guy, or I'll come and kill you again.'" Tonks morphed her face to look like Andromeda when she quoted her.

Harry snorted at Tonks' antics. "I'm glad you came," he said.

"Why, thank you. You're like the naive younger cousin I never had and can corrupt and tease. And really, it's not fair that you need to do these things by yourself. The least I can do is to drink your excellent whiskey while you're brooding."

"Hey! I'm not brooding!"

"You're not? And where's your girl? You kill the bastards so that you can live, the least you can do to honour their sacrifice is to actually do so. It's kind of wasted if you just sit alone in the dark, don't you think?"

Harry shook his head in mirth. "I think I'll go to shower and then I'll sleep. And I'll go see Daphne on Christmas Eve, Nott should have been in the papers by then."

"That's my boy!" Tonks cheered. "I'll take care of those robes for you. Can't have any aurors finding the incriminating evidence here, now can we?"

Harry laughed again at the irony of it all, and dropped the blood stained robes on the floor as he walked to the bathroom, swaying slightly from side to side from all the whiskey he had consumed.

- O -

Two powerful images were competing for attention on the front page of the Daily Prophet as Harry opened the paper drinking his morning tea. One of them was him at the highpoint of his speech the in the ministry party, the other showed Theodore Nott floating mid air in the middle of the Diagon Alley. Nott was seemingly hanging from his left hand, the Dark Mark tattooed in his forearm clearly visible in the picture.

A huge headline was filling the space over the two pictures:

LORD POTTER RALLIES THE PEOPLE AGAINST THE DARK FORCES; DEATH EATER THEODORE NOTT FOUND DEAD ONLY HOURS LATER

Harry felt sick at the sight of Nott's bloodied body, remembering every detail of the night and what he had done. But he needed to send a strong signal, and a small voice in the back of his head reminded him that in the current climate the best Nott could have got after killing the two aurors that were standing guard in Hogsmeade, kidnapping students and raping Astoria was the Dementor's kiss. It just wasn't fair it had to be him who was doing these things.

The story in the paper went on describing all the rumours about Nott's involvement in the Hogsmeade attack, and Harry's role in stopping the attack and rescuing the students. Harry had been incensed that his part of the fight had been exaggerated completely out of portion by the prophet while Neville and the other students that had done most of the actual fighting were mentioned only briefly, but as the Prophet kept finding 'eyewitnesses' with more and more outlandish stories about how Harry had killed the dementors with the Sword of Gryffindor he was beginning to wonder if his friends were actually better off without the attention.

Harry had thought about marching to the offices and forcing the Prophet to stop printing the stories, but changing the publishing guidelines decided during summer would have been more trouble than it was worth.

Harry finished his tea, folded the paper and rose from the table. A few flicks with his wand caused the dishes to float to the sink and start washing themselves. He pulled on his robes and patted down his pockets, checking that he had everything he needed for his stay at the Greengrasses shrunken down with him. Satisfied that he hadn't missed anything he glanced at the mirror once more, sighing slightly at the tired appearance, turned the lights off and apparated away.

- O -

The Greengrass home was outwardly a very typical English countryside house. With two stories it wasn't much bigger than the Burrow where the Weasleys lived, but then again a family of four didn't really need as much space as a family of nine. Unlike the Burrow, the Greengrass house was perfectly capable of standing on it's own without the help of magic, but there still was an unmistakable aura of magical power surrounding the building. A light snow was covering the well kept garden around the house, and Harry's boots left a trail of footprints starting from the point where he had apparated to as he walked to the door.

The wards had announced Harry's arrival, and as soon as he reached the door Damien Greengrass was there, holding it open.

"Welcome, Mr Potter," Daphne's father greeted Harry, giving his hand a firm shake. "My daughters told me what you did at Hogsmeade and at Nott's. And I did read today's' paper. Thank you for saving Astoria — and avenging her."

Harry nodded, acknowledging the thanks and neither confirming nor denying Damien's implication of Harry's involvement with Nott's death.

"Well, come inside. It's Christmas; it should be time for happiness and family, not war and death," Damien continued. "My daughter has been waiting to see you. Actually, both of them."

- O -

Harry and Daphne were sitting together in the dark living room of the Greengrass home. Harry was watching small flames dancing on the embers in the fireplace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of full stomach after hearty Christmas dinner and the warmth of Daphne, who was leaning against him with her feet curled under her in the sofa as she read a new book she had got as a present from Tracey. Harry couldn't do but smile at the enthusiasm his girlfriend showed for the romance novel, and she was already good three fourths through the book she had opened from the wrappings only the same morning. Damien, Ariana and Astoria had already retired for the night leaving Harry and Daphne alone.

It had been the best Christmas Harry could remember. Sure the beginning had been a little awkward, but the Astoria walked up and hugged Harry tightly and mumbled her thanks, and everything went up from there. The presents Harry had chosen for Damien, Ariana and Astoria with some help from Daphne had been great success. Damien was all over the moon for the antique book liberated from the collection in the Chamber of Secrets, while Ariana's designer scarf and Astoria's gift certificate for Gladrags were both received with much happiness. The sapphire necklace harry had bought for Daphne had earned him a kiss that had made both men in the room uncomfortable while the women had cooed at the display.

Harry himself had received a lot of candy from his friends, books from Hermione and a dark green, almost black silk shirt that he was currently wearing from Daphne.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deep in contentment. Daphne stirred at the movement and turned to look at him.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked fingering her new necklace, holding her place in the book with a finger.

"Just how great this Christmas has been," Harry answered. "It's been the best one I've ever had. I've never really talked much about my childhood, but I guess you have figured out that it wasn't really the best I could have had; for example I never got a present in my life before I got to Hogwarts. And while Christmas in Hogwarts was good every time and the Weasleys were great, I really prefer the peaceful quiet here to the constant chaos with all the redheads around."

Daphne reached up to kiss Harry on his cheek. "Then we'll have to make sure that this one is even better. And the next one."

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: Merry Christmas to all my readers and special thanks to those who have reviewed my story!


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

-o0oOo0o-

"Nice to see you, Harry!" Neville greeted Harry as he walked out of the Longbottom floo with only a slight stumble. "And you too, Daphne," he continued when she followed soon after. "Welcome to the Longbottom Hall!"

"It's good to see you, Neville," Harry answered sweeping a few speckles of ash from the shoulders of his robes. "How has your holiday been so far?"

"Nothing special, really. Gran's been over the moon with how I dueled Bellatrix, and Susan and Hannah visited on boxing day. Otherwise it's been the same as before. No change on my parents either."

"Sorry to hear that," Harry said and squeezed the shoulder of his friend.

"Nah, I'm used to it. Of course I always hope they would get better, but they've been the same for as long as I can remember."

"So, who else is coming?" Harry asked, trying to guide the conversation towards cheerier subjects.

"Gran invited half of the wizengamot, so there's that," Neville said. "You are expected to make the rounds through them, too, Harry. But I also managed to invite a lot of our friends. Susan's already here with her aunt, Hannah is coming, the Patils, Luna... And then there's Justin, Seamus and Dean. I invited Ron and Ginny, too, but they couldn't come. Well, I ended up inviting pretty much everyone in the DA, but I'm not sure how many of them will come. I have the ballroom upstairs prepared for us, so we can have some privacy from the adults."

"Great! I'm sure it'll be good. And I guess I can handle the Lords and Ladies, too, if I have to. I had practice in the ministry party already."

"Yeah, I saw the headlines," Neville said, when the fireplace turning green caught his attention. "Excuse me, but It seems there's more guests arriving."

Harry and Daphne walked further inside leaving Neville to greet Lord and Lady Winters who were also members of the Potter-Longbottom-Bones alliance in the Wizengamot. There were already quite a few people people talking and sipping champagne in the grand ballroom of the manor, and Harry nodded his greetings to various people he recognized.

"Harry, Daphne!" someone shouted, and Harry spotted Susan coming to his direction. "Good to see you. Auntie can't stop working even on New Year, and I was starting to think it would never end. How have your holidays been?"

- O -

"Hello Luna!" Harry greeted his Ravenclaw friend who was studying closely one of the many potted plants Neville had in the second floor ballroom. He had done his duty for the political alliance for tonight, and had excused himself from the adults and joined his friends upstairs.

"Hi, Harry," the blonde witch replied as she seemingly placed some invisible creature within the plant. "You had quite an impressive group of blue-winged knacksnappers with you at the Solstice party, you know. I saw them in that picture in the Daily Prophet. Poor Theodore never stood a chance. Knacksnappers can get very protective of those they favour and will take their vengeance on anyone who opposes their hosts. It's a pity that Riddle has enslaved a whole tribe of long-nailed werchegs to protect him, or we wouldn't need to worry about him at all. But I'm sure you'll find a way to free them from their enslavement, or at least get them to ignore you. So don't worry."

"That's... well, that's good to hear," Harry stammered, astonished once again by Luna's ability to hide amazingly accurate observations among completely undecipherable tales of creatures never seen or heard outside of the Lovegood family. Sometimes it made Harry wonder if everything she said was in fact pure truth if filtered through a proper decoder, or if she herself knew how close to the truth she came with her bizarre explanations. But that was not something Harry wished to think about too much; he had had more than enough of prophecies and clairvoyants.

"Actually, Luna, what I really wanted to ask about was Astoria, Daphne's sister. She's one year behind you in Ravenclaw, and she's had a rough holiday so far. I'd be happy if I knew she had someone looking out for her in your house when we get back to school."

"Oh, Harry, always the knight in a shining armour. Of course I'll look after her, no one should need to endure the things she has alone."

"Thank you, Luna. I know she probably has her own friends, but..." Harry trailed off.

"I understand, Harry," Luna said. "I really do."

"You're a good friend."

"Thank you, But I think we should join the others, it seems like the year is about to change, and I guess Daphne wants her New Year's kiss. Though I wouldn't object to one either," Luna said, and skipped away towards the others who were moving outside to a large balcony that ran all the way along the second floor wall.

Harry smiled at Luna's antics and joined the others outside. Red, green, blue and yellow fireworks courtesy of Fred and George Weasley were fired by the elves as Harry embraced Daphne from behind.

"Happy New Year, Daphne" he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Daphne turned around in his embrace. "Happy new year to you, too," she said, and returned the favour solidly on the lips.

- O -

"Hermione, Neville," Harry greeted his friends as he and Daphne sat down at their table in the Leaky Cauldron. "Did you enjoy your holidays?"

As there still wasn't a replacement for the train that was destroyed in the battle the previous September, the Hogwarts Express was unable to operate. Instead a secure floo connection had been crafted between the Alley and Hogwarts for the students to travel between the castle and London during the holidays. Harry and his friends had decided to take the opportunity provided by the near instantaneous travel to meet beforehand. Neville and Hermione had been first to arrive, and had secured a private, warded booth near the back of the pub and had some snacks and warmed butterbeer already on the table.

"Yes, it was great. It was good to see mum and dad again," Hermione said.

"I'm sorry they had to leave the country. Must be hard for them to lose their home and leave their friends and work like that."

"My parents are were happy to travel the world, Harry. They have been working very hard for their own practice ever since they graduated, and this is the first longer holiday they've had since their honeymoon. You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened to my home, really."

"Alright, alright. Sorry I was concerned," Harry said, raising his hands up in surrender. "It's good to hear they're happy."

"What about you, Harry? What did you do over the holidays?" Neville asked.

"Well, I spent the first days at home, talking with Charlus. He's really great, I don't know what I'd have done without him. Then there was the Solstice party at the ministry, that you probably saw in the prophet, and then I visited Daphne for the rest of the holidays," Harry said, looking at his girl fondly. Daphne was fingering the necklace he had given her, an equally blissful expression on her face.

"I also saw Tonks and Remus after New Year. I think Remus is finally starting to break under her persistence."

Hermione harrumphed. "Honestly, the prejudice against werewolves is so ridiculous that they believe it even themselves. Yes, they transform once a month, but really, the rest of the time they are perfectly normal."

"Yes, that's what Tonks has been telling Remus all the time. But he's nothing if not stubborn. Hopefully now that Remus doesn't need to search for the cave and the horcrux anymore they can have more time for each other; he had rotten luck that it was full moon on Christmas this year."

The cheerful mood dampened noticeably at the mentioning of Voldemort's soul anchors.

"Do you have any ideas what to do with those things, Harry?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Well, actually I do," Harry answered. "Or not really ideas yet, more of an idea where to look for ideas. I mean, thus far we've been focusing on finding and destroying the horcruxes, right?" he asked, and the others nodded in agreement. "What if we could find a way around them? To 'vanquish' Voldemort without destroying them? I remember having heard somewhere someone saying that 'There are fates worse than death'. I think something like that would be just what Voldemort deserves. And I think that should be our next subject for research."

- O -

"I have great pleasure to welcome you all back in Hogwarts for yet another term of learning and friendship," Dumbledore said as the feast had advanced to the point where main courses were replaced by desserts. "Though I must do so with heavy heart, as one of us failed to come back. Theodore Nott made some terrible mistakes in his life and had to pay the ultimate price for them. While I can honestly say I do not condone the act of violence he fell victim of, I do know that his sins were equally terrible. Let us hope that the tragedy that befell him will act as a reminder of the consequences our choices always have."

Dumbledore took a small pause, to respect the dead and to give the words time to sink in.

"While I had hoped to have more joyful announcements to make," he continued, "I'm afraid I do not. In light of the events before Christmas it has been decided that the amount of Hogsmeade weekends has been reduced so that adequate precautions can be taken for those times students may leave the safety of the castle grounds. Also, in order to honour the sacrifice made by those killed or injured in the attack the Heads of House have agreed to cancel the remaining games of the Quidditch season."

Bedlam broke out in the Hall when Dumbledore made the announcement. Ron was one of the most vocal among those who were expressing their disappointment for the decision.

"Please, do not take this as a punishment," the Headmaster's voice carried over the uproar, silencing it some. "We are in no way forbidding you from playing. In fact we strongly encourage you to arrange friendly matches yourself, and our Flying instructor Rolanda Hooch has agreed to referee such games. We just feel that when the teams have lost members in the attacks it would be inconsiderate to simply replace them, for both their and their teammates' sake."

"How do you feel about that?" Hermione asked Harry, who was looking thoughtful and toying a helping of treacle tart on his plate.

"Honestly?" he asked. "I'm a bit relieved. Quidditch has lost quite a bit of it's appeal lately, the new team just isn't what it was without Fred, George, Angelina and Alicia. I can still fly without it, and I have some ideas for DA that I want to try, so this gives me more time for that. I think we'll change the rules for the new term."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we have the indoor fighting and defending a building down quite well, but we haven't done any open air battles. I was thinking about building some sort of replica of Hogsmeade, or at least some obstacles to simulate a road with buildings on the sides. And I think we'll have to shake up the teams, too; I kind of want to get Astoria in after what happened. It'll do her good to learn to defend herself better. She'll know that if there's a next time she won't be as helpless as she was."

"That's good thinking, Harry. Changing the teams might be a good idea otherwise, too. It's always good to be able to work with different people."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I was thinking about making it five person teams, so that would be excuse enough to change them."

Hermione nodded, and returned back to her pudding; her dentist parents didn't believe in sweets or sugary treats, so she was going make the most out of the Hogwarts' offerings.

- O -

Towards the end of supper on Thursday Professor McGonagall came to the Gryffindor table. She gave him a message from the Headmaster that Harry had been expecting for the whole week. So much had happened on and since that fateful Hogsmeade weekend that Dumbledore was bound to summon Harry into his office for a talk before long. Harry thanked his head of house for delivering the message, finished his meal and walked up to the headmaster's tower.

"Please come in, Harry" Dumbledore called when Harry reached the door of his office.

"Lemon drop?" the headmaster offered as was his habit while Harry seated himself on a comfortable armchair.

"No, thank you, sir," Harry said, shaking his head lightly.

"I must say your speech at the Solstice party was truly inspired. You have the gift of working with people, Harry, it's a great gift to have."

"Thank you, sir. But I guess you didn't ask me here just to compliment me for the speech, am I right?"

"Ah yes, I did have something less pleasant to say, too," Dumbledore said, and looked straight at Harry with a serious face.

"During the break I heard from my sources what happened at the Nott home. I have to express my disappointment that you would resort to using such dark magic to get what you wanted."

"Sir?"

"Harry, the end does not justify the means. You can't just use force to solve your problems."

"With all due respect, sir, what should I have done? I knew I could rescue the students, I hardly could have just left them at Voldemort's mercy. And think about the effect it would have had on the morale of the people. What would the families have thought if their children had been held hostage over Christmas? Or would you just have agreed to all Voldemort's demands to get them back?"

"We don't even know what his demands would have been..."

"Yeah, right. Maybe he just wanted a Christmas present," Harry scoffed. "Besides, I'm not using force to solve all my problems. You complimented me on my speech at the ministry yourself, that was me not using force. But force still has it's use, one shouldn't just dismiss it. Or do you have some ace still in your sleeve that you haven't told anyone about?"

"But Harry, think about the prophecy. 'The power he knows not'. You can't win with force, that's what Voldemort is doing."

"Oh? So what do _you_ think this mysterious power is?"

Dumbledore looked deep into Harry's eyes, the customary twinkle in his missing.

"Voldemort has spent decades learning forgotten arts abroad, and he was a bright student already here in Hogwarts. There's little he doesn't know. But there is one area of magic Tom has always been dismissive of. Harry, I believe that love is the power you have that Voldemort knows not."

Harry blinked. Dumbledore's words had come completely out of the blue.

"Love?" he asked.

"Yes Harry, love. Love is the most powerful force there is, and your capability for it despite the childhood you had amazes me. But you are walking dangerous path with the use of dark magic."

"Excuse me, but I don't really see _how_ I could use _love_ to defeat Voldemort."

"But don't you see, Harry, you have already done it once. It was your mother's love that saved your life fifteen years ago."

"So I should just let Voldemort hit me with Avada Kedavra again and hope that it bounces off, again? Are you out of your mind? I finally have a life worth fighting for, and I damn sure won't let it go without one."

Harry stood up and walked to the door. Once there he turned to look back, and saw the headmaster sitting behind his desk, watching the darkened sky through his window. Dumbledore looked older than Harry had ever seen him before, and Harry thought he saw a lone tear falling down his face glistening in the soft candlelight of the office.

- O -

"Love?" Daphne asked Harry as they were walking towards the Room of Requirement from their Charms class. It had been their last lesson of the week, although Neville and Hermione still had Herbology before they could come and meet them at the Room.

"Is that what Dumbledore said?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I still can't quite believe it myself."

"Don't get me wrong, love has strong magical properties, and emotion by and large is an important part of a lot of spells. And Dumbledore was probably right about your mother," Daphne continued. "But I can't see how you could use it against Voldemort; the magic of love isn't exactly offensive."

Daphne paused to think about what her mother had told her when she had talked to her before she came to Hogwarts for the first time; about the sexual rituals of equinoxes and solstices. Daphne was perfectly capable of counting nine months back from her birthday on 20th of March, which happened to be the vernal equinox._ Astoria's not going to ever feel the rush of magic when you make love for the first time, _she realized, suddenly saddened.

Harry and Daphne walked in silence up the main staircase, each lost in their own thoughts. There were not many students in the high corridor at this time of the day, most were off to classes, and those who weren't spent their time studying in the library or their common rooms. Quiet chatter from a few of the portraits was the only thing that mixed with the sound of their footsteps.

Daphne seemed to shake herself, her eyes gaining sharp focus, though Harry missed the change as he walked beside her.

"To be honest I think the headmaster is reading too much into the prophecy. Prophecies are notoriously fickle things that usually only make sense after they are fulfilled. The 'power the Dark Lord knows not' does sound like an important thing, but it could be anything and you wouldn't know what it is until you have defeated him, and maybe not even then."

"I guess so," Harry said as they turned to the seventh floor corridor with the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his trolls. "It would have been nice to know what kind of secret power I'm supposed to have, but I guess it's not to be."

Harry paced back and forth in front of the wall where the Room of Requirement was located, thinking about their usual meeting room with comfortable couches, warm fire and nice view over the Hogwarts grounds.

"Isn't the door supposed to appear at this point?" Daphne asked, as nothing happened.

Harry reached out to the wall and touched the grey stone that looked identical to the rest of the hallway.

"Yes it is," he answered. "Maybe I should try again?"

Harry paced back and forth again, concentrating even harder.

"Nope. Nothing. Wonder what's wrong with it?"

"Can I try?" Daphne asked, taking a step forward.

"Sure, why not. Can't hurt."

Harry stepped back and watched as Daphne crunched her brow and paced back and forth in front of the wall. Still nothing.

"Maybe someone else is using the room?"

"That's as good a guess as any. But I don't remember telling anyone in the DA how to use the room. That is, anyone but Hermione, Ron and Neville, but they are all at class now."

"Maybe they worked it out themselves? They know where it is, and it's very useful. I would have tried to work it out myself if you hadn't told me."

"True. Well, we'll need to find someplace else, then. Good thing the castle is so large."

- O -

One hour later Harry, Daphne, Hermione and Neville were gathered in an empty room near the library. Harry and Daphne had transfigured some furniture for them, and Harry was standing in front of a blackboard he had conjured. At the top of the board he had written the topic of their meeting in large letters: THE FINAL SOLUTION.

"So, have you had time to think about anything that might allow us to ignore Voldemort's horcruxes?" Harry asked, underlining the header on the blackboard.

There was a short silence, as Hermione, Neville and Daphne looked at each other, waiting for the others to start. Finally Neville cleared his throat.

"Harry knows how my parents are," he started a little uncertainly, and turned to face Hermione and Daphne. "But I'm not sure if you have heard about them. They were tortured to insanity by the Lestranges and Crouch Jr. They have been laying in bed in St. Mungo's for over fifteen years now, not saying a word. Nothing the healers have tried has helped. I was thinking if we could get Voldemort into the same kind of state, he wouldn't be a threat to anyone."

"Right, so the first idea is Cruciatus overexposure," Harry said, writing it down on the blackboard. "I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it definitely would be poetic justice."

Harry looked at the words on the board, thinking.

"So the idea behind it is to destroy Voldemort's mind beyond repair?" Harry asked Neville, who nodded. "Then what about obliviating him? I saw Lockhart a year ago in the same ward as Neville's parents; he didn't remember anything. And I bet we could do a better job at obliviating Voldemort than the incompetent peacock did to himself by accident."

"I like it," Hermione said. "And it fits right in with this philosophy I've read about that says a human being is made out of body, soul and mind. Voldemort has anchored his soul with the horcruxes and he can create a new body for himself; therefore we need to destroy the mind, as the others are protected."

"Actually," Daphne piped in, "In the magical world we are taught that human beings are made out of body, soul, mind and _magic._"

"Is there any way to destroy Voldemort's magic?" Harry asked, interested at the new avenue. "A squib named Tom Riddle wouldn't be nearly as bad as Voldemort."

"Well, I'm not sure," Daphne said slowly. "Losing one's magic is used as a penalty clause in some magical contracts, but I don't know how we could go about forcing or tricking Voldemort into one."

"Didn't stop Voldemort from forcing me," Harry grumbled remembering the Triwizard tournament in his fourth year, as he wrote 'Taking out V's magic/magical contracts' under 'Obliviation'.

"So, other ideas? Daphne, Hermione?"

"I did some research on capital punishment in the wizarding world through the ages, and there were a couple of promising leads," Hermione said. "They used to execute criminals by throwing them through something called 'The Veil of Death', that seemed like a one way portal to someplace unknown. It's been out of use for centuries, but I doubt the ministry would have destroyed it. If we force Voldemort through it, I don't think he could come back."

"It's in the Department of Mysteries," Harry said, remembering what Luna had told him a year earlier in Hogwarts Express. "The Veil, I mean. Amelia would probably be happy to give us access to it if we figure out how to get Voldemort down there."

"Oh, well, that's good. The other thing I thought about was the dementor's kiss that's used as capital punishment right now. It's said to destroy the soul of the victim, so that sounds like just the thing we need. Of course I don't know if that's just conjecture or hard fact, or if the horcruxes interfere with the dementors' ability"

"Okay, so the Veil of Death and Dementor's Kiss," Harry recapped, writing them down on the board. "What about you, Daphne?"

"I thought about ways to imprison him indefinitely. If we can't kill him, then we should try to lock him away so that he can't hurt anyone."

"But wouldn't the Death Eaters just break him out of whatever prison we closed him in?" Harry asked. "And what if he kills himself? Can we capture the shade?"

"Well, I wasn't thinking about giving him to the ministry, and if the Death Eaters don't know where he is held they can't break him out. I was actually thinking about some of the rooms down in the Chamber of Secrets," Daphne explained. "It's been hidden for a millennium now, and we could further hide the cell with the fidelius or something. And I researched different ways of keeping him unconscious and in stasis, so that he doesn't die or can't kill himself; there's a potion called 'The Draught of Living Death' that might do the trick, and different charms that are used to keep food or potions ingredients fresh.

"Then I found a bit more experimental option that had to do with slowing time inside a closed chamber, so that even though Voldemort would age only days inside, decades or even centuries might pass on the outside"

"That sounds interesting," Harry said. "You think we might be able to create one down in the chamber, or have one built for us?"

"Truthfully, I don't know," Daphne answered. "We certainly couldn't do it ourselves, and I don't think anyone has done it on a scale big enough for a prison, so it's probably not a very realistic choice. The Veil of Death sure sounds more promising."

"So which one should we choose?" Hermione asked, gesturing at the blackboard. "We have a lot of ideas, but we'd need to work them into a plan."

Harry looked at the board, scratching his head. "Is there any reason why we should stick to just one?" he asked. "I mean, it looks like it should be relatively easy to combine these. Destroying Voldemort's mind and magic would be a good thing to do regardless if we decide to chuck him through the Veil or keep him in stasis down in the Chamber of Secrets. And I can't see any reason why we shouldn't also feed him to a dementor. Just to be sure. For all we know he might have done some ritual to make him immune to pain, or he might have resistance to obliviation. And Hermione said it herself that there might be complications with horcruxes and dementors. But if we hit him with all of these, there's no way he would survive."

"Erm, guys," Neville raised his voice, "how are we going to do these things to Voldemort? It's not like he's going to just let us obliviate him or do the other things."

Harry sighed and drew his hand through his hair. "That was always going to be a problem. Of course this means we need to capture him alive instead of just killing him, which adds some difficulty, but in my opinion killing him wouldn't be such a bad thing either. Sure he can come back again, but it's going to take some time and in that time we could take care of his supporters."

"We'll just need to find some way to trap Voldemort then," Daphne said. "But I don't think that's going to happen today. Why don't we call it a day, dinner's going to start soon anyway."

"Let's do that," Harry said and copied the contents of the board into a parchment with a quick charm before cancelling the transfiguration.

Harry and his friends were just finishing cleaning up after themselves and packing their bags when a soft pop announced the arrival of an elf.

"Dobby?"

"Great Harry Potter Sir will want to hear that the old young bad master just left the Come and Go room," Dobby announced. "The room is now free for Master and his friends to use."

"Old young bad master?" Harry wondered out loud, as Hermione frowned at Dobby's choice of words. "What is Malfoy doing in the Room of Requirement?"

"Dobby does not know that, sir," the excitable elf answered. "But Dobby does know what room the old young bad master was using. We elves use the same room all the time."

"Do you have any idea what Malfoy might be up to, Daphne?"

"Well, nothing special," she answered, trying to remember it there had been anything worth mentioning since the start of the term. "Malfoy has been acting a bit weird lately, now that I think about it. As if he was scared of something. I guess I thought it was just because of what happened to Nott. And Pansy has been bitching about how Malfoy supposedly ignored her during the holidays, but she's been bitching about him since fourth year."

"Well, after how Nott managed to slip right past me I'm not going to take any chances with Malfoy," Harry said, furrowing his brows. "Dobby?"

"What does the great Harry Potter want of Dobby?" the elf asked, bobbing up and down with barely restrained enthusiasm.

"Can you show me the room Malfoy was using?"

"Dobby can, Harry Potter sir! Sir only needs to go to the seventh floor, Dobby will be there waiting for him."

- O -

The room was completely unlike anything Harry had seen the Room of Requirement produce before. It was a huge hall with a high ceiling supported by rows and rows of clustered columns. The floor was filled with piles of old furniture, discarded equipment, and trophies from years immemorial.

"What is this place?" Harry asked Dobby.

"This is being the Room of Hidden Things. The elves bring here things that are lost or not needed anymore. Dobby did hide here the hats She-Who-Knits left in the tower of the lions, when the other elves were afraid to go in. They are being right there."

Dobby pointed at the top of one huge pile of assorted objects, where a small pile of brightly coloured woollen hats were clearly visible, piled on top of each other covering the head of a statue of a dignified looking wizard. Harry was barely able to resist laughing out loud at the indignant expression on Hermione's face.

"She-Who-Knits?" Daphne asked, wondering what on earth was going on in Gryffindor house.

"Don't ask," Harry answered. "It was just one of Hermione's less well researched projects, right, Hermione?"

"They just don't know of better," the bushy haired girl huffed, folding her arms in front of her. "If they just were more like Dobby, they would understand."

"Alright, alright," Harry tried to placate his friend. "Let's not get further into this discussion. Now, what was Malfoy doing in here?"

"I don't know, but those tracks in the dust seem like a pretty obvious lead," Neville said. He pointed at the clear trail of footprints that vanished behind a towering pile of old editions of "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1".

Following the trail was less useful than one would have guessed at first. After a couple of loops around particularly large piles of stuff it was evident that Malfoy himself wasn't too certain about what he was doing in the Room of Requirement.

Harry and his friends saw a myriad of different things in their journey through the room. Some of them seemed to be only stored in there like the round tables and dining chairs Harry remembered from the Yule ball on his fourth year. Others were long forgotten, like what seemed to be a comprehensive collection of skeletons of various magical creatures, including a fully grown dragon. At one point Harry saw a ten-foot mountain of what he believed were socks without pairs. There were paintings that had stopped moving a long time ago, a cabinet full of dusty containers of potion ingredients, and huge piles of what Harry recognized as OWL-exams, written by centuries worth of students.

Harry picked up an old, defunct snitch that was rolling on the floor, trying hopelessly to get off the ground with it's powerless wings. He remembered seeing a picture of a similar snitch in the book "Quidditch through the Ages"; it was one of the earlier designs from the 16th century. _Some collector would probably pay a lot of galleons for this_, Harry mused, as he gently tapped the little ball with his wand and infused it with new magic. The revitalized ball buzzed around Harry's head a while before zooming away, disappearing into the large hall.

"Hey, I think we found it!" Daphne called out, as they reached an opening where the floor was clearly cleaned by a few hastily cast cleaning charms. An old cabinet of some sort was standing next to the clearing, and on a table next to it was a couple of books and fresh ink and a length of parchment filled with notes.

"What is it?" Harry asked, stepping closer. He had a nagging feeling that he had seen something like that cabinet before, but couldn't remember where that could have been even if his life depended on it.

Hermione was instantly studying the books and the notes on the table.

"Theses are books on enchantment and runes," she said. "And these notes look like... I think Malfoy is trying to replicate or repair whatever that cabinet is."

"Why would he want to do that?" Harry asked. "If he needs an ugly enchanted cabinet, why doesn't he just buy one? Malfoy doesn't seem like the type who wants to do things himself just because."

"I think there's something special about this particular cabinet," Hermione said. "These notes... it's some sort of transporter, I think. Just these runes, I mean, Zod means to go, but it implies using a camel or a donkey, and I can't see how you would use that thing with either of those."

"Are you sure those are correct?" Daphne asked. "They are Malfoy's notes after all. He doesn't take runes as far as I know."

"No he doesn't," Hermione confirmed. "That has to be it."

"It's a Vanishing Cabinet!" Neville gasped.

"A what?"

"A Vanishing Cabinet. We have one at our home, it's linked to another in our holiday home in Spain. It's just different looking, that's why I didn't recognize it at first."

"So this one here is also connected somewhere?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, Vanishing Cabinets are like that. They always work in pairs. They have just fallen out of fashion after the invention of floo network, that's so much more flexible and cheaper that people don't use the cabinets anymore."

"And if Malfoy is trying to repair this one, the other is bound to be somewhere where Voldemort has access to it," Harry said, drawing his wand. "Well, it's not going to be a problem for much longer. Let's destroy this thing and then get Malfoy. I'll be able to sleep better with him behind the bars."

"No!" Daphne shouted, grabbing Harry's hand before he had time to cast anything. "We need to think about this a bit more, before we act."

"What's there to think about?", Harry asked, looking at Daphne. "Malfoy's trying to create a secret door through the wards, and bring in Death Eaters. We can't let him do that."

"Of course we can't," Daphne explained. "But think about it; this is obviously one of Voldemort's plans, Malfoy wouldn't have been able to come up with this himself. If we destroy this now and hand Malfoy to the aurors, he'll know immediately and come up with something else. But if we just monitor this carefully, he'll be under false impression that his plan is going well, while in fact it isn't. And don't forget that this thing works in both directions."

"So we can go through ourselves and attack Voldemort where he least suspects!" Hermione completed Daphne's thought. "That's brilliant, Daphne!"

Harry looked at the cabinet carefully, his wand now pointing at the floor. He turned to look around, taking in their surroundings, the huge piles of objects and the enormous hall that disappeared in the darkness outside the range of the light from their wands.

"I think we can do something even better," he said, a grin growing on his face.

-o0oOo0o-

A/N Special thanks to my beta Majerus!


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

-o0oOo0o-

"Welcome everyone to this term's first meeting of the Defence Association!" Harry announced as the members were gathered outside. White snow covered the ground and the surface of the frozen lake reflected the shining sun with almost blinding brightness. The January air was pleasantly cold, but not freezing, and woollen cloaks kept the light breeze away from the students.

"Last term's competition was a huge success, and before we start this term I think it is time to award prizes to the winners. For the first prize my friends at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes have agreed to give out four gift certificates valued at ten galleons each, while the second prize is four gift certificates of five galleons. Would the winners please join me up front; Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones and Luna Lovegood, and the second place team Timothy Morcott, Lilith McManaman, Horatio Pershore and Andrea Kegworth!"

The eight students walked to the front and climbed to the low podium where Harry was waiting with the prizes. With a loud bang a trio of Weasley Whizzbang fireworks rose to the sky, and exploded into a shower of huge, multi-coloured snowflakes that floated over the students and disappeared as they touched the ground. "Let's give a round of applause for the winners!" Harry yelled when the last of the certificates were given.

"Now that the first round of the competition is properly finished, I think it is time to move on towards the next one," Harry continued. "I think we can all agree that our skill in defending a house against attackers has increased since September, so I thought we should change the rules a bit, and move to more straight forward, open air battles. This also reflects what happened in Hogsmeade before Christmas."

There were grim faces among the gathered students; almost everyone had friends who had either been killed, injured or kidnapped during the attack, and no one wanted be caught unprepared should there be a next time.

"There will be a new arena, and the battles will be fought with four teams, two on each side," Harry continued. "Madam Pomfrey will also be happy to hear that this term we'll be using Fred and George's Battle Simulation Shield Hats, that have been developed in cooperation with the training department of the Auror Office. They will keep things safer in the battles.

"As we still need some time to prepare our playing field for the competition, we will start next week. During this time we encourage you to shake up the teams – to accommodate the new members that wish to join us, and to make more friends. So, until then!"

Harry stepped down from the low podium with Neville and his team. Susan and Luna headed to the crowd, while Neville and Hannah joined Harry as he walked towards Daphne who was talking with Hermione close by.

"So, have you already thought about your team, Harry?" Neville asked. "Susan is talking about joining with Justin and I think she'll take Luna with her, so Hannah and I are free at the moment."

"Daphne and I talked about this yesterday, and she said Tracey is going to try and rope Blaise in and create her own team," Harry said. "What about you, Hermione?"

"I was thinking about maybe skipping it this time," Hermione said. "Fighting doesn't really suit me, it's too disorganized. I think I'll try to convince Pomfrey to expand the healing class she's been giving."

Harry looked at Daphne who shrugged with a smile, and turned back to Neville. "Well, it seems we have the same situation as you two," he said.

"So Hannah and I with you and Daphne?" Neville asked as they started to walk towards the castle.

Harry nodded. "Sounds good."

"Yes it does," Daphne agreed.

"I'm fine with it, too," Hannah said. "We'll be unstoppable with you and Neville in our team, Harry."

"Yeah, should be pretty good," Harry agreed with a small smile.

The five students walked to the entrance hall in companionable silence, where Hannah kissed Neville goodbye and left for the Hufflepuff common room.

"Are we ready to make the move on Malfoy yet?" Neville asked when the four conspirators were alone, checking over his shoulder that no one was around to overhear them.

"Hedwig delivered the package from Tonks this morning, but I'll still need to go see Slughorn for the potion," Harry answered. "But otherwise we're good to go. I already checked the map after lunch, and Malfoy was heading to the seventh floor. He should be working on the cabinet as we speak."

"So we're doing it tonight?"

"Yes. No need to give him any more time, even if Hermione said his notes are totally wrong."

"That's good," Daphne said. "The Slytherin dorms will be a better place to live without Death Eaters walking freely."

"I'll also be able to sleep better with Malfoy properly leashed," Harry agreed.

"So you'll go see Slughorn, and we'll get ready to ambush Draco?" Neville asked for confirmation.

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I'll come there as soon as I can."

- O -

The seventh floor corridor was as empty and peaceful as always. It wasn't too close to any of the four common rooms, and all of the professors preferred to have their offices and classrooms closer to the ground floor and the Great Hall. Add that it was Saturday evening and there were even fewer people walking around the halls, the students preferring to relax in their common rooms, or in the case of Ravenclaws, study in the library.

The only indication that the corridor wasn't quite as deserted as it looked to be was the candles that illuminated the school. Instead of the minimal light they provided to empty parts of the castle, the candles were burning brightly, casting flickering shadows to the far corners of the corridors. Not that many would know to look for signs like this; as the candles adjusted themselves even before anyone got close to them, the true nature of their function wasn't widely known even among the professors.

If one was to pay very careful attention to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance ballet, one might have noticed the slight distortion in the air caused by four invisible students sitting on an invisible sofa. And should the careful observer have stepped through the silencing barrier that was around said sofa, they would have heard the conversation these four students were having.

"Did Slughorn give you any trouble?" Daphne asked.

"No," Harry answered. "Of course he's not happy with the situation, but I think he's Slytherin enough to try to work it to his advantage. I'd bet that in his head he's thinking this all was his idea, and is patting himself on the back for a job well done."

One could almost hear the frown on Hermione's face. "I still don't think that blackmailing teachers is what we should be doing," she huffed.

"Hermione, you've read Riddle's journal. Riddle gave Slughorn a box of candy and got the recipe for Horcruxes in return. I don't reveal Slughorn's dirty little secrets and got veritaserum in return. Blackmail isn't really all that different from bribery."

"Are you sure you want to use Voldemort as a benchmark for what is right and what is wrong?"

"No, but we are talking about Slughorn here. If he's fine with bribery, he should be fine with blackmail, too. But if you feel it's wrong, you can always oust Slughorn by yourself. You haven't promised him your silence."

"You know Harry's right, Hermione," Neville said. "And you know Harry could get the potion from the Minister, too. This is just safer and faster, so everyone wins."

Hermione harrumphed, but didn't say anything.

Time passed and each of the four friends were delving into their own thoughts. Daphne was leaning against Harry's invisible shoulder, and he was playing with her hair. The pair were simply enjoying the quiet time together.

Hermione was going through McGonagall's latest lecture on human transfiguration in her head.

Neville daydreamed about Hannah, his cheeks blushing unnoticed at the memory of their latest rendezvous in greenhouse number four. Professor Sprout kept the plants there that weren't especially interesting magically, but that were pretty to look at and couldn't survive the Scottish winter.

They were so deep in their thoughts that they almost missed the door of the Room of Requirement forming in the wall. Draco peeked out in both directions, stepped out and started walking down the corridor.

"Hey," Hermione whispered, and nudged Harry's shoulder. "Malfoy's leaving."

Harry jerked up, waking Daphne who had fallen asleep against his shoulder. "Right."

Harry stood up, whipped out his wand and with one continuing smooth movement threw a stunner at Draco's back. The blonde boy fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Almost too easy," Harry commented, and dispelled the disillusionment and silencing charms that were keeping them hidden.

- O -

Draco woke up sitting on a chair in the middle of a room. His hands were tied behind his back, and his feet to the legs of the chair. His robe and wand were on a table close by, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, baring his arms. He tried to struggle against the restraints, but they were tight and wouldn't budge.

A voice stopped his futile attempts. "Should I be insulted that you don't want to be my guest for any longer?" Harry asked.

"Potter! Release me at once, or I —"

"Or you'll what? Go tell daddy? Daddy's not fighting your battles any more, Malfoy."

"I will kill you myself if you don't release me at once, Potter!" Draco yelled, struggling a little more.

"I doubt you could do it, Draco, but I have no intentions of letting you try," Harry said. "I might have once been foolish enough to go to the trophy room for an honest fight when you challenged me, but now I'm more than happy to just destroy you if I feel like it. But first I think we should talk for a while."

"I'm not going to tell you anything Potter! Go to Hell!"

"I'm not expecting you to tell me anything voluntarily, Draco," Harry explained and showed the small vial full of clear liquid. "That's what I have this for."

Harry waved his wand and Draco felt his mouth open as if forced by invisible hands. He calmly let three drops of veritaserum fall onto Draco's tongue, and another gesture of Harry's wand closed the boy's mouth. Walking to the table, he took a roll of parchment from the pocket of his robes and positioned an elegant, white quill on it. The quill hovered at the top left corner of the parchment, ready to write.

"A friend of mine was nice enough to provide me with this legal grade charmed parchment and dicta-quill. It's the same that aurors use when they are interrogating criminals. Your confession will be all nice and legal, should we need to take it to the DMLE."

Harry tapped the quill with his wand, and it flashed briefly with golden light.

"This is the interrogation of Draco Malfoy, on the nineteenth of January, nineteen ninety seven, in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Harry dictated, and watched as the quill danced on the paper writing everything he said in a beautiful, clear script.

"Interrogator Special Agent Lord Harry Potter; witnesses Neville Longbottom of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger. The subject has been given three drops of veritaserum.

"Draco Malfoy, I can see that you don't have the Dark Mark on your arm. Are you a follower of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?"

"Yes I am," Draco answered in a monotonous voice, forced by the potion.

"Is there a reason why you don't have the mark?"

"The Dark Lord felt that it would be too much of a risk to give me the dark mark, given what happened to Nott before Christmas. I will be marked when my mission is complete."

"We have discovered a vanishing cabinet here in Hogwarts that you have been trying to repair. What is your mission?"

"My mission is to repair the vanishing cabinet, and open the connection to the other cabinet when the Dark Lord gives me a signal."

"And what will happen after that?"

"The Dark Lord will destroy Dumbledore's resistance here in Hogwarts, and the Ministry will fall soon after."

"And when is this attack going to happen?"

"I don't know."

"Do you have a time limit for repairing the cabinet?"

"I have until Easter."

"Have you participated in any Death Eater activity?"

"No I haven't. I was supposed to create chaos inside the Hogwarts Express when it was attacked, but the aurors forced me to leave before it happened."

"Did you have knowledge of the attack in Hogsmeade before Christmas?"

"No, I didn't."

"Where is Voldemort's headquarters?"

"I can't say."

"You don't know or you can't say?"

"I can't say."

"Are there any other students in Hogwarts with a mission from Voldemort?"

"Not that I know of."

Harry looked at the answers written on the parchment and a list of questions they had prepared beforehand. There wasn't anything else they wanted to have on the official paper, and the fact that Draco was clearly a part of a conspiracy to overthrow the government was enough to get him a life sentence for treason. Harry tapped the parchment with his wand, and after another brief flash of gold, the quill floated to the side and below the transcription four lines appeared. Harry signed his name on the first line, and handed the parchment and the quill to the others. Then he turned to face Malfoy, who was beginning to recover from the effects of the potion.

"Well, it looks like someone has been a naughty boy," he said, gesturing at the parchment that was currently in Hermione's hands. "You do know that that parchment could see you locked up for the rest of your life?"

"Shut up!" Draco shouted. "The Dark Lord will free me!"

"And why would he do that?" Harry asked. "You've just failed your mission, and from what I've heard you don't even have all that much money left in your vaults. Face it, you are of no use to him any more."

"But... But I'm a Malfoy!"

"And so what? Do you really think a half-blood like Voldemort really cared about your family? Look at what he did to your father. And stop that bloody twitching! You chose to serve the monster and still you cower at the mention of his name!"

"You don't know what he's like! You don't say no to the Dark Lord. He would kill me, and my mother."

"I don't know what he's like? I _have_ said no to him, and _my mother_ said no to him. You're just too much of a coward to stand up for yourself."

"But what else could I have done? Not even Dumbledore could protect me and my mother from the Ministry and the Dark Lord."

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere," Harry said, smiling. "Dumbledore can't, but I can. Do as I say, and that pesky parchment can go away."

"You? How could you protect me?"

"Well, obviously I'm the one who holds your secret, so that's the Ministry covered. And I will kill Voldemort."

"But the Dark Lord will kill my mother if he finds out."

Harry shrugged. "I don't see how you have a choice in this. He will kill her anyway if you fail your mission, and I don't see how you could manage to not to fail it now that I know what you are doing."

Draco hung his head down in defeat, all bluster gone. "What happens now?" he asked in a small voice.

"Now you will make an unbreakable vow," Harry stated plainly. "I don't trust you, and I don't plan on starting any time soon. After that you will finish your mission to repair the cabinet, and I will take care of the rest."

- O -

Half an hour and one unbreakable vow bound by Daphne later, a subdued Draco had departed leaving Harry, Daphne, Neville and Hermione in the Room of Requirement. The Room had transformed itself into the comfortable sitting room the friends had used in their meetings before. Harry was sitting on a sofa, leaning back with his eyes shut, emotionally exhausted from the interrogation.

"Are you going to tell us about your plan now, Harry?" Daphne asked, sitting down next to him. "About what you're doing with the cabinet?"

Harry drew a deep breath. "Right," he said, opening his eyes and straightening up. "I think it would be best if we did this in the right room so I can show you."

Harry stood up and motioned the others to stand closer. "I don't know if the room can change this much with us inside, so better safe than sorry."

Harry clenched his forehead in fierce concentration, and the room around them started to change. The walls disappeared into the distance and the roof shot up, pillars growing down from it. Mountains of discarded objects appeared from nowhere filling the empty space where the sofa and chairs had been a moment ago. A thick layer of dust appeared on the floor, with Draco's footprints showing the direction to the cabinet.

Harry opened his eyes, and released a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. "Well, let's go," he said, leading the group along the trail of prints in the dust.

"Now, our plan is to destroy Voldemort's mind and soul, as killing the body won't be enough, right?" Harry asked.

"That's right," Hermione agreed, and Daphne and Neville nodded.

"And to do that, we'll need to capture him alive, right?"

"Right."

"And that, I think, is the problem," Harry said. "You see, every time he has been cornered, he has managed to escape. For example last year when I had the vision during the history exam? Dumbledore had Voldemort cornered in the Ministry atrium, but still he escaped taking Lucius and Bellatrix with him. But what does _Hogwarts, a History_ say about the castle, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned at the sudden question, going through her favorite book in her head, until her expression suddenly brightened. "You can't apparate inside Hogwarts!"

"That's right," Harry smiled. "The castle has the best anti-transportation wards in the world, or at least in Britain. If we manage to corner Voldemort in here, there's no way he can just escape."

"And this place is just perfect for ambush," Neville added, looking at the towering piles of stuff with new appreciation when they arrived at the small clearing that housed the vanishing cabinet. "You could hide an army in here."

"Exactly. I was thinking about building fortified positions up in the piles around the cabinet. Transfigured stone for protection, brooms for escape, the whole nine yards."

"We could open the fight by dropping a mountain of junk on top of Voldemort and whoever is with him," Neville continued Harry's thought. "We'll have cover and the high ground, they won't even have proper footing."

Daphne was nodding approvingly. "No mercy, using everything you have for your advantage. I like your plan. But how can you be sure Voldemort himself will come here?"

"He will," Harry said, sounding more confident than he necessarily felt. "Hogwarts is the Grand Prize for him. This is the most magical place in Britain, and he thinks of himself as Slytherin's heir. He's an orphan and he thinks of Hogwarts as his home. And he wouldn't trust his minions for this, there's too many times they have failed him before."

"Were you thinking about asking the DA to help you with this?" Hermione asked.

"I was, yes," Harry said, and raised his hand before Hermione had time to protest. "But I'd rather have aurors doing the fighting. I don't want to see any more of my friends getting hurt. I'll have to be there, but no one else who's not professional should have to. We'll just have to find some way to keep the ambush from reaching Voldemort's ears."

"I wasn't going to say you shouldn't," Hermione said softly. "Merlin knows you would rather do everything alone and get yourself killed than put anyone in risk, you really should learn to accept help. But I'm coming with you; you're my friend, and I'll follow you as I have followed you before."

Harry was about to protest, but Neville beat him to it.

"And I'll come, too," he stated firmly. "Gran would never forgive me if I let you fight Voldemort, and probably the Lestranges too, without offering my help."

"I'll be there, too. I might not be much use, but I'm not going to let you go alone," Daphne said. "And I think we could make it even less dangerous for us: we could fill all this junk with all kinds of traps."

"Good idea," Hermione said. "Harry should write Fred and George and ask them to come up with something. We might even look into the muggle side for ideas. But first let's go get some dinner. I'm starved."

Daphne took hold of Harry's arm and guided him towards the door, any protest Harry might have had against his friends fighting with him falling on deaf ears.

- O -

A year or two ago if someone had suggested that a Slytherin should eat at the Gryffindor table, the idea would have been laughable. It was a testament to Harry's role as a leader that no one as much as raised an eyebrow when Daphne once again headed towards the end of said table with Harry, Hermione and Neville for lunch on Tuesday. Neither did anyone comment when Harry drew his wand and wove a privacy charm around their part of the table, keeping eavesdroppers away. Even Parvati and Lavender had stepped down when Daphne had quite forcefully stated that whatever happened between her and Harry wasn't for public consumption.

Not that it had reduced the amount of rumours around them.

The four of them settled down and Hermione reached for the smashed potatoes. "You really should make more effort on your school work, Harry," she said, loading her plate with a generous helping before turning towards the stew. "I saw that essay McGonagall returned today. I mean, I know your practical work is really good, but practical isn't even half of the NEWT-exams. You really should try to get at least EE's from your assignments."

Harry put away the beans and reached for the roasted beef. "It's just that..." he started. "I just have so much other stuff going on that I don't really see the point in writing essays. And I don't have time for it either. I have to fight Voldemort, remember?"

"Harry, there's more to life than fighting Voldemort, and NEWTs are very important when you try to get a job," Hermione lectured. "And it's not like you have all that much work to do. You only attend two NEWT-level courses."

"And even if I win against him, it's not like I could ever get a normal job," Harry continued, ignoring Hermione. "I mean, think about it. The Boy-Who-Lived thing is bad enough, but what would I be after? 'The-Man-Who-Conquered'?" Harry grimaced at the thought.

"You know Hermione's right, Harry," Daphne said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "There is life after the war. And you need the formal qualifications if for nothing else than for the sake of themselves. Winning the war isn't enough, we still need to win the peace after it. There has to be changes made, and you being as young as you are is bad enough when you try to make them happen. You don't want to give the old geezers in the Wizengamot the opportunity to call you stupid too just because you didn't see the point in reading about the theory of inorganic transfiguration."

Harry sighed. "Alright, you win," he said. "But can't we see this through to Easter first? I'll have the whole summer and the seventh year to study if we win then."

"_When_ we win, Harry," Daphne corrected. "And I think that'll be enough," she said, giving Hermione a pointed look.

"I guess so," the bookish girl sighed acceptance. "I'll have a study schedule ready for you then."

Harry groaned, and focused back on his plate. "Have any of you got any new ideas about the ambush?" he asked. "I'll go meet with Fred and George tomorrow."

"Well," Neville started. "I was thinking about what Malfoy said about his mother. He seemed very close to her, and I wonder if she might be to him, too. She could be a very useful ally to have."

"That's a great idea!" Harry said, happy to have a new topic that didn't have anything to do with his grades. "If Voldemort is using the Malfoy home as we think he is, she could have access to all sorts of information."

"But how do we contact her?" Daphne asked. "If the house is under the fidelius, owls won't be able to find her."

Harry frowned. "Not to mention it's not safe. I certainly wouldn't send Hedwig to Voldemort's lair," he frowned.

"I thought about that, too," Neville said. "And I think there might be a way. If Draco's grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy was as vain as Draco and Lucius, he's bound to have portraits out there somewhere. And as he was an ally of our families, he would probably help us out, especially if we explained Draco's situation and how the Malfoy family would disappear if he failed."

"That's brilliant, Neville," Harry praised. "I could ask Charlus if he knows anything about Abraxas' portraits. I'm already going to London tomorrow, so it's no problem to pop by at home while I'm at it."

- O -

The peace of the summer house Harry had been calling home was disturbed by a crack of apparition shortly before noon on Wednesday. Even though Harry hadn't visited the place since the end of the Christmas holidays, no signs of lack of use was to be seen. The walkway was clear of snow, and Dobby had even polished Sirius' old motorcycle which was standing under a roof next to the entrance.

Harry entered the house, hung his grey cloak in the foyer and walked to the living room. He plopped down on a sofa facing the wall where Charlus was currently snoozing peacefully in his frame.

"You're not a very good guard, are you?" he asked, lifting his feet on the low table in front of him.

Charlus woke up with a jerk. "What..? Oh, Harry, good to see you. And you would be bored, too, if you had to just hang around in an empty house. That elf of yours isn't much of a conversationalist, you know. He only wants to talk about you, but when I ask him something he just says, and I quote, 'Dobby will not tell the secrets of the Great Wizard Harry Potter Sir. Dobby is a good elf.'"

"Well, Dobby is a bit special that way," Harry agreed, smiling.

"I've noticed," Charlus replied with a wry grin. "But shouldn't you be at school?"

"No, not really. I had arithmancy in the morning, but I have business in London so I decided to drop by and say hello."

"Just like your father," Charlus' grin widened. "He was always sneaking out of school, too. So, how are you doing? Everything okay with Daphne? I remember her birthday is coming, do you already have a present for her?"

"No, it's still over a month away. I'll think of something later."

"Harry! You don't just 'think' of something at the last moment. Especially as it's her 17th birthday. A lady like her will expect something special, especially if you're serious about her," Charlus said with authority. "You clearly still have a lot to learn, my boy."

"Oh. Well, what should I get her?"

"I can't tell you that," Charlus stated indignantly. "It has to be personal. She knows you're rich enough to buy her anything, and that's just going to make it even harder."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Harry complained. "I was happy with how things were, and now you've made me worry about Daphne's birthday."

"I promise you'll thank me later, when you come up with the perfect idea," Charlus said. "But I don't think you came just say 'hello'. What can I help you with?"

"No, I didn't," Harry answered, and shifted himself to a more business-like position. "You see, we have this plan about how to defeat Voldemort, and we have Draco Malfoy helping us with it," he explained. "Not voluntarily, mind you; we've got him under an unbreakable vow. But then Neville came up with an idea that maybe we should try to get Draco's mother working for us, as Draco seemed to be genuinely worried about her. As a spy, you know."

Charlus nodded. "Sounds good so far. I didn't have much to do with Cygnus — Narcissa's father — but I did meet her a couple of times. She seemed a decent enough girl. So what's my part in the plan?"

"Well, we think that Malfoy's home is currently under the fidelius charm or something similar, and that makes contacting her a bit difficult," Harry explained. "So we thought that maybe Abraxas had multiple portraits, and maybe we could get him to deliver messages for us. And that maybe you might know where to find such portraits."

Charlus scratched his chin. "Abe did have a few portraits," he said after a while. "But I'm not sure if they are in any place where we could get to them. He had one at his home, sure, and another at his office in the Wizengamot. Those are definitely out of our reach. I'm pretty sure he gave one to his wife's family, the Montagues, but as far as I know they were Death Eaters, and I don't see how you could ask them to give it to you without raising suspicion. And you don't want that, right?" Charlus asked.

"No, definitely not," Harry answered.

"Then there was a fourth one that I know of in the Daily Prophet boardroom," Charlus mused. "But Lucius had it taken down soon after Abe's death. That might still be stored somewhere in the company's archives."

"So how do I get it out of there?"

"You can't. The Prophet's Archives are some of the best protected collections in the country, and they are in constant use. Even with the family invisibility cloak you couldn't sneak the portrait out of there without raising alerts all over."

Harry sighed, and slumped down on the sofa. "So it's back to square one, then?"

"Not necessarily," Charlus answered, his eyes shining brightly. "I think it might be time for me to re-enter the world of journalism. You get me hanging in the offices of the Prophet, and I'll talk them into locating Abe for me and hanging him next to me when you're away. They wouldn't deny an old man from seeing an old friend, and it shouldn't raise any suspicion if I asked to see him."

"So you would be in constant contact with Abraxas and handle the messages for us? But how would you get them to me? I can't come to London all the time, and you couldn't even call Dobby there. Especially as he's an old Malfoy elf."

"I don't think that should be much of an problem," Charlus said. "There was an old shop near the end of Diagon Alley that's specialized in magical paintings, and I don't see why it wouldn't be there still. You could buy me a spare frame that I could travel to if needed."

"Oh, that should do it," Harry smiled. "Well, I'm going to the Alley anyway, should I take you there now?"

- O -

Harry found _Leonardo's Fine Arts Shoppe_ in the far end of the Diagon Alley just as Charlus had described. The walls of the small shop were full of uninhabited paintings depicting different scenes, ranging from idyllic landscapes cheerfully lit by bright sunshine to dark and dreary dungeons. The smell of turpentine and paint permeated the air as Harry walked through the cramped space towards the counter in the back of the shop.

A portrait of a grey-haired man sitting in his atelier that was hanging over the counter greeted him. "Good day, good sir. I'm sorry but my grandson seems to be neglecting his duty again. Feel free to look around as I go and get him."

"Thanks," Harry nodded. The old artist disappeared from the painting, leaving Harry alone in the quiet room.

After a while an almost equally grey-haired man with similar facial features to the man in the portrait emerged from the back of the shop wearing paint-stained artist's robes.

"Hello, young sir," he greeted. "How can I help you?"

"Hi," Harry greeted. "I have a portrait of my grandfather, and he's getting a bit bored staying in the house while I'm in school," he continued and dug Charlus up from his bag. "I'd like to get him a spare frame so he can move around a bit."

"Hello, Michael," Charlus said, when Harry had resized the painting to it's normal size.

"Oh, Charlus! It's been a long time!" Michael said enthusiastically, before turning to Harry. "And you must be Harry Potter! I'm sorry I didn't recognize you."

"No worries, actually it's nice to not be recognized immediately every once in awhile."

"But still! The Boy-Who-Lived in my shop! And looking for a frame for my old friend Charlus," the shopkeeper continued, reaching for the painting. "Here, let me put you on this easel here, so you can browse the different choices yourself," he said to Charlus.

Harry watched as Michael placed the portrait on an empty easel covered with runes, and waved his wand above it. After a small flash of light he told Charlus that he was now able to move freely between all the paintings in the shop, and Charlus immediately disappeared off the left side of his frame.

"So, how does this work?" Harry asked the shopkeeper as Charlus appeared in a scene with a massive feast laid on a table and tasted one of the pastries.

"Ah, it's very simple, Mr. Potter," Michael said. "After Charlus finds a scene he likes, I can charm the frame to be connected to the original. It's a simple charm, really, but I'm afraid it's a family secret."

"And then he can move from one painting to another freely?"

"Yes, precisely. You wouldn't believe how many old portraits get bored of their frames and want some variety. But mostly people just connect old frames together instead of buying new ones. I can do that, too, but they often lack the originality of my new ones," Michael stated, clearly upset that his craft wasn't appreciated more.

Harry was about to ask more about the paintings, when Charlus interrupted them from a huge painting of a library.

"Hey! Why are all these books blank?" he asked.

"Ah, well, that level of detail is beyond even my capabilities," Michael admitted. "But I assure you that the inkwell on the desk is quite functional! You will never run out of space if you decide to write an autobiography."

Charlus closed the book he was holding, and looked at the desk with the inkwell, clearly unimpressed. "Do you have anything else?"

Michael stroked his short beard. "I think I have exactly what you'd want," he finally announced, "if you come this way, this is one of my finest works."

The artist lead Harry and Charlus to a painting that depicted a moderately sized but tastefully decorated study with a sturdy mahogany desk in the middle. "I made this in cooperation with the Daily Prophet. It is directly linked to their presses, and you'll get the daily newspaper immediately delivered to the desk first thing in the morning. It of course costs extra for the subscription, but I think that is easily justified for a distinguished gentleman such as yourself."

Harry and Charlus looked at each other. This was absolutely perfect, and as the painting was going to hang in the offices of the paper, it was thematically suitable as well. "We'll take it, when can you have it ready?"

- O -

The spellwork didn't take long, and just half an hour later Harry was again back in Diagon Alley, the door to the Daily Prophet offices closing behind him. Getting Charlus hanging in the Daily Prophet offices had been a walk in a park. With Harry as the biggest shareholder and Charlus a somewhat legendary figure who had helped to make the paper what it is, the portrait was hanging in the boardroom in no time at all. As Charlus would breach the subject of Abraxas with the staff later when it wouldn't raise suspicion, Harry was free to continue with the real reason of coming to London today: meeting Fred and George.

The weekdays of January clearly weren't among the busiest for the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. There was only one customer browsing the wares when Harry entered the shop.

"Harry!" Fred greeted him enthusiastically and stepped forward from behind the counter.

George, alerted by the shout, peeked from the back room and waved at Harry. "What can we do for our favourite investor?" he asked as his brother enthusiastically shook Harry's hand.

"Have you two jokers found someone else stupid enough to give you their money?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Nah, but you're still our favourite," Fred said. "And business is booming! You'll make a healthy return for your investment."

"Although there has been some interest in investing in us," George said. "But we'd rather keep the business in the family."

Harry shrugged. "It's your business, you do what you like with it. But do you think you could spare me a moment? There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

The twins looked around. The only other customer had left soon after Harry had arrived, and the shop was empty.

"Sure," Fred nodded as George waved his wand towards the entrance. The door closed and a plush monkey dropped from the ceiling hanging from it's tail. Harry saw that the monkey was holding a plaque declaring that the shop was now closed.

"Thursdays are always slow days," Fred continued.

The twins showed Harry to the back room, and sat down on bright yellow armchairs that clashed spectacularly with the purple suits they were wearing.

"So how are you, Harry?" George asked, after Harry had settled himself in. "Mum was right upset that you didn't visit us during Christmas."

"But that was nothing compared to her reaction when Tonks told us that you were staying with the Greengrasses," Fred added. "She really doesn't trust anyone who's associated with Slytherin in any way."

Harry winced. He had heard enough of Molly's rants to know it wasn't a joking matter when she was upset. "Sorry about that, guys."

"Not a problem Harry. We can relate with a bloke who would rather stay with his stunning girlfriend."

"And mum really was more angry at Ron and Ginny for 'letting that hussy corrupt sweet Harry'," George squaked, in imitation of Molly's voice. "We managed to avoid most of it."

"None the less, you didn't deserve it," Harry frowned.

Fred waved the apology away. "I'm pretty sure we indeed deserved it," he grinned.

"There's always something that we got away with," George finished with a matching grin.

"Fine then," Harry relented. "So Tonks visited the Burrow?"

"Yeah, mum insisted that the Order should use her kitchen for the meetings ever since, well, you know," Fred replied.

Harry nodded. "And what's the Order doing?"

"We really haven't been in many meetings," George shrugged. "The shop takes all our time."

"But they're not doing anything much," Fred continued. "Tonks can't say what the Ministry is doing because of some new regulations with the aurors, Snape doesn't have any new information anymore so he mostly stays silently in the corner, and the rest just seem to be happy that the Ministry is actually doing it's job and that there isn't much for the Order to do."

"But that's really a good thing, isn't it?" Harry asked. "No news is good news."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Fred answered. "So, what did you come to talk with us about? Sneaking all the way to London to do so."

"Well, I need your help with a plan."

The twins perked up. "A plan?" George asked.

"Are you finally getting into the noble art of pranking and need to come to the experts for help?" Fred added.

"It's not a prank," Harry stated. "We have uncovered a plan to smuggle Death Eaters through the wards of Hogwarts, and we want to ambush the attackers. I need your help with the ambush."

"So it is a prank," George insisted.

"It's always best to consider all plans as pranks," Fred explained. "It keeps your options open and mind away from the obvious. What kind of ambush are you talking about?"

Harry shook his head in amusement. "We have a sort of portal in the Room of Requirement, surrounded with centuries worth of junk. Draco Malfoy is repairing it under our supervision, and we hope that Voldemort will come through himself when he attacks."

"You _hope_ that Voldemort will come himself?" Fred asked, eyes wide open. "Who would hope for that?"

Harry sighed. "There is a prophecy that says that _I_ have to be the one to take care of Voldemort. And as you probably have noticed, Voldemort doesn't want to stay dead. We have a plan to take care of that, but we need to capture him alive for it to work. Ambushing him at Hogwarts is probably the best chance we'll ever get to do so."

Fred and George sat back in their chairs, stunned.

"So not only do you need to kill Voldemort, but you need to capture him alive first to do so?" Fred asked. "I knew you lived an interesting life, but I had no idea just how interesting it was."

"Yeah, what my brother said," George added. "We might need some time to come up with a suitable plan."

"Well, Draco has until Easter to get the cabinet ready, so the ambush should be in place preferably before that," Harry explained. "But it doesn't need to be anything too fancy. I'm mostly worried about what reinforcements Voldemort will bring with him. It should be something to help neutralize his lackeys, and it should destroy the cabinet, to cut off his escape route."

"What it this cabinet you're talking about?" George asked.

"It's called a Vanishing cabinet," Harry explained. "It's the portal Draco's repairing. It's made of wood and is about that size," he continued and pointed at a storage cabinet in the corner of the room.

"Alright then," Fred stood up. "We'll get to work, and you'll have the greatest Dark Lord ambushing prank ever made delivered before Easter."

"And don't be a stranger and come visit again," George shook Harry's hand as they rose. "It's always good for business to have the Boy-Who-Lived shopping at our store," he finished with a wink.

"Thanks guys," Harry answered, and shook Fred's hand. "I'll see if I can find time to visit."

Harry was about to leave, when he remembered something Charlus had said.

"Umm, guys," he paused. "You wouldn't have any ideas what I should get for Daphne for a birthday present?"

"Daphne, hmm?" Fred asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, her birthday is still over a month away, but Charlus said I really should have an idea for her present already," Harry said and shrugged, ignoring the innuendo.

"Well, we have some interesting things in our WonderWitch collection," George said, guiding Harry through the shop. "Like these edible underwear," he continued, pulling a package of bright red panties and bra from a shelf.

"We also have underwear that eats you," Fred said, ignoring Harry's blush. "Got to keep the balance, you know?"

"Then we have the Patented Daydream Charms," George said, showing Harry the next display. "We wouldn't normally recommend buying your girlfriend one, but the Harry Potter themed ones are some of our best selling products."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Your selling stuff with _me_ in it?"

"Sure. I mean, girls are daydreaming about you in any case, why not get your cut out of it?" Fred reasoned.

"But I don't need to _know_ about it," Harry whined.

"And you have nothing to be ashamed about them. We had Alicia helping us out with those, and she said it was great," Fred continued, not bothered by Harry's complaints. "Although they might be a bit outdated," he continued, giving Harry a once-over. "It's been almost a year since our last Quidditch game together, you know."

Harry groaned. "Don't you guys have any class?"

"Class?" Fred asked, turning to George. "Do we have any class?"

"I don't think so," George answered. "Though Angelina asked about it not so long ago. Maybe we should look into it?"

"Let's add it to the to-do list," Fred said nodding, and turned back to Harry. "I'm sorry, we're all out of class at the moment, sir. Please come back another time and check in on our progress though," he finished with a professional sales voice.

Harry covered his face with his hands. "Why did I even ask?"

"The only one with class we know of is probably Bill," George continued, ignoring Harry's outburst. "That Fleur, now there is one classy lady."

"Right," Harry shook his head. "Well, you do what we talked about, and I'll handle my own problems. And I don't want to see any more products with my name on them!"

- O -

The Saturday afternoon sun sparkled in the frozen dust hanging in the air as Harry sprinted across the street. He was shielding himself against spellfire coming from the opponents who had entrenched themselves at the end of the street. It seemed they were happy enough to hold their ground instead of going for more points by capturing ground.

'But then again,' Harry thought as he impacted against the wall on the other side and took cover behind a corner of a building, '— I might have done so too if was faced with opponents like us.' Harry took a deep breath, and leaned out of the cover to launch a furious assault of spells against the defenders, keeping them down for Neville to cross over.

In their first match a week ago Harry and Neville had utterly obliterated. their opponents, and Hannah and Daphne were great in their support roles too. The team fighting alongside them on this battle were no slouches either: Susan and Luna had been in the winning team on the autumn term, and Justin had shown his skills in Hogsmeade. Astoria wasn't bad either, and the fourth year Ravenclaw had gained a lot confidence in the short time she had been part of the DA.

"A bit too easy, don't you think?" Neville asked, as he arrived next to Harry. "I would have expected more from those Slytherins."

Harry shrugged. "I have no problems with easy," he said. "Three seventh year Slytherins with one Ravenclaw are only half of them. The other team is all fourth years."

The elves had once again pulled through with the construction of the Defence Association battle arena. An area almost the size of the quidditch pitch was covered with seven foot tall walls made of wood and stone, forming an outline of a small village with a main street in the middle and smaller alleys and squares on the sides.

The rules of the DA battles had changed slightly from the autumn competition. Points were still given for team members standing when time was up; but instead of a fixed objective inside a house, there were multiple markers scattered across the battlefield that changed colour when tapped with a wand, and were each worth one point. Harry was rather proud of the new rules, as they provided interesting strategic options: should one prepare defensive positions and try to keep safe until time was up, or take the risk of getting hit by moving out to capture the markers?

"Do you know when we'll meet with Narcissa?" Neville asked while Harry was transfiguring a low wall on the street to give both him and Neville some cover to shoot from. Daphne and Hannah would cross the street next, while Susan and Justin would advance along the other side of the street. Luna and Astoria would hold up the rear, and keep an eye out for anyone who might try to outflank them from behind.

Harry finished the transfiguration with an audible grunt. "I think so," he replied as he scanned ahead. "I talked with Charlus yesterday, and he said he's got Abraxas' portrait hanging next to him already. He's still feeling things out at the moment, but Charlus thinks Abe will help."

"So when do you think he'll be ready?"

"I was thinking of delivering the message tomorrow. We can sneak out of the castle to have the meeting Tuesday evening. There shouldn't be anything happening with school then, and the sooner we get Narcissa spying for us the better."

"Alright," Neville agreed, "sounds like a plan."

Before Harry had time to say anything more, Hannah arrived on their side of the street. "Are you two just chatting in here?" she asked. "I could have done with some help over there."

"Sorry," Neville said sheepishly, and moved out to give covering fire for Daphne, who was also preparing for her sprint across. Once again the air over the street was full of colourful light as Daphne ran over the open ground, casting a cushioning charm on the wall before slamming next to Hannah.

"Alright," Harry said as the team was gathered together. "Next stop is that marker in the corner. Same drill: I'll go first, Neville follows, Hannah and Daphne cover for us and follow when we're there. Ready?"

The other members of the team nodded and Harry was just about to make his dash forward when a blast from behind made them turn as one. The team whose inactivity Neville had wondered about had managed to slip behind them using the side streets of the arena, and were firing spells against Luna. Astoria was lying immobile in the street, hurled there by the blast.

"Astoria!" Daphne shrieked as she saw her sister down. Without thinking she ran back across the street, not caring about the spellfire flying around her.

"Daphne!" Harry shouted as one particularly nasty looking curse narrowly missed her. Their trap sprung, the previously pinned defenders were also throwing spells down the street faster than before. "Damn it," Harry growled. "Neville! Cover me!"

Neville nodded and opened fire towards the other team's position, forcing them to take cover behind their fortifications. Harry took the opportunity to sprint after Daphne, a thick cloud of white smoke erupting from his wand as he ran.

"Daphne, snap out of it," Harry urged, shaking her shoulder as he reached her, while casting a shield to cover them from the flanking force. Daphne was on her knees, holding an unconscious Astoria to her chest. Harry's smoke cover was already starting to dissipate in the wind conjured by the opposition, leaving them in the open.

"Daphne, she's alright, she's just stunned," Harry said again, as Daphne didn't seem to respond. "The shield hats, remember? That's why we have them, so that no one gets injured too badly."

Harry looked up. The seventh years' spells packed a punch, but they just weren't as good at protecting themselves as those that had been in the DA from the beginning. Two of the four were already down, and the rest were hiding behind a corner, unable to do much of anything because of the steady stream of curses and jinxes from Susan, Neville and Luna. Harry glanced once more at Daphne, and went on the offensive.

Heavy bludgeoning curses and stunning spells hammered the shield the two opponents were using to protect themselves, causing it to buckle under the onslaught. Seeing the hopelessness of the situation, the two of them threw their wands to the ground and raised their hands in surrender. Harry had just summoned their wands to him and was about to conjure ropes to hold them down when a loud gong reverberated in the air, marking the end of the battle.

Harry turned back to his girlfriend, who was still rocking her sister on her lap. "Daphne?" he asked softly. "Daphne, are you alright?"

Daphne looked up at Harry with puffy eyes and shook her head.

"Daphne, Astoria is just fine," Harry comforted as Madam Pomfrey's student healers rushed to the scene and levitated Astoria onto a conjured stretcher. They quickly cast diagnostic charms, and the hat's clever charm-work provided them with a simulated list of injuries.

Harry helped Daphne up from the ground and hugged her tightly. "It's all part of the game, Daphne. She'll be just fine after the stunning spell wears off."

Daphne said nothing and just kept holding onto Harry.

Harry sighed. "Neville!" he called. "You take charge here, I'll take Daphne back to the castle."

- O -

Harry helped Daphne down on a sofa in the Room of Requirement, and sat down next to her. Two steaming mugs of hot chocolate appeared on a table in front of them, and Harry silently thanked Dobby for the help.

Rubbing his girlfriend's back, Harry spoke gently as he looked into her eyes. "Daphne?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

Daphne sniffed. "I'm useless," she said in a small voice. "I just froze and couldn't do anything."

"Daphne, you're not useless," Harry assured the girl and hugged her against his side. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Daphne barked a sarcastic laugh. "You'd do just fine without me," she said bitterly. "You have Hermione doing the research, Neville can fight, Charlus knows the traditions, Amelia and Augusta are all the contacts you'd ever want. What would you need me for?"

Harry hugged the miserable girl tighter. "Daphne, don't be like that," he spoke urgently. "Your role is more important than simple research or combat. You, – you are the reason I have to fight for, Daphne. You showed me that there might be a future for me that doesn't involve fighting a Dark Lord. I – I love you Daphne."

The two teens sat together in silence, Daphne still hanging her head, her dark brown hair shielding her face from view.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this, you know," Daphne murmured quietly. "We were never supposed to become this close, and my family was never supposed to be on the front lines. I was supposed to follow you safely from behind, and then Dumbledore was supposed to kill Voldemort with you following him. That was the plan."

Daphne paused for a while, and relaxed a little in Harry's arms.

"Then there was the prophecy, and Dumbledore's passivity. And then you invited me to your home for the summer and made me breakfast."

Daphne laughed at the memory. "I think that was what changed it all," she glanced up at him, then back down. "Suddenly you weren't a means to an end any more, but something more."

Looking up, she met his eyes, her voice quiet, but calm. "I love you too, Harry," she held his gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes to their entwined hands.

"But I'm scared. When Astoria was hit today, I couldn't help but remember what happened before Christmas. I'd feel better if she wasn't part of this."

"Astoria needs to do this," Harry responded. "She needs to know that _if_ she's ever attacked again, she won't be helpless. I know what it feels like to be helpless. The summer after fourth year I had watched Cedric die and Voldemort being resurrected, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't practice any spells, I had no information, and Dumbledore had even forbidden Hermione and Ron from writing anything important to me. All I could do was to listen to the muggle news and wonder if some of the incidents were in fact caused by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. All because it was 'for my own good'. It was making me insane.

"Astoria doesn't need protection from the outside, she needs to have confidence in herself. And being able to do things in the DA will give her that confidence."

"I guess you're right," Daphne admitted with a sigh. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

There was a knock on the door, that caused Harry to raise his head. Neville was peeking from the opening, and Harry could see Astoria standing behind him. Harry nudged Daphne in the shoulder, and she looked at the door.

Before Harry had time to say anything, Daphne jumped up and rushed to the door. "Astoria!" she shouted, and engulfed her sister in a hug.

Harry followed Daphne to the door and raised a questioning eyebrow at Neville, who just shrugged.

"Astoria was insistent that she needed to be taken to her sister," Neville said. "I know how you feel about telling people about this room, but I thought it was for the best."

Harry looked at the two sisters who had moved to the small couch and were holding each other with tears in their eyes. "Yeah, you did the right thing," he said.

The two boys stood in silence while the girls murmured and held one another before Harry spoke again.

"I think we should leave them alone," he motioned towards the sisters. "Daphne took Astoria being knocked out badly; they need some time with one another."

Neville nodded, and the two Gryffindors left the room. Harry watched as the door moulded itself back into the wall and sighed, before squaring his shoulders. Daphne would be fine, and he had a message to compose. It was time to confront Narcissa Malfoy.

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: Well, that took quite a bit longer than anticipated... But don't worry, the story is nearing the end, and quite a bit of the remaining is already written (let's say 60%). I'm not going to promise anything, but i will be disappointed myself if I can't finish this before the end of the summer. So there.

Also thanks to everybody who has read and reviewed my story, and also to my beta Majerus who had the patience to wait for me.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

-o0oOo0o-

Narcissa Malfoy was walking through the corridors of the east wing of the Malfoy manor. The rooms of the private suite were the only place in the huge house where she was able to freely think anymore, as after the death of her husband the Dark Lord had commandeered the whole house as his headquarters.

Uncivilized Death Eaters were now occupying the lavish guest rooms Narcissa had decorated, the expensive liquors and wines from the cellars were consumed in drunken bacchanals. She had only been able to watch from the side as the finest china that had been a part of her dowry was broken in a brawl that had started over a muggle girl who had been captured in a raid in November. And the sister Narcissa had once loved was of little help either; Bellatrix had been unstable already in the seventies, but the stay in Azkaban had made her completely insane.

But what really frightened Narcissa was the fate of her son, Draco. The Christmas holidays had been horrible for her: as soon as Draco had arrived home the Dark Lord had assigned Bellatrix to train him into a Death Eater, an occupation that in the light of the front page of the Prophet was almost equal to a death sentence. To make things worse, Draco was to have a top priority mission inside Hogwarts, where both Dumbledore and Potter were sure to be keeping eye on him. If only Snape hadn't turned out to be Dumbledore's man, he might have been able to keep her son from doing anything stupid.

Narcissa sighed. The boy was full of youthful idealism and a will to take up arms for what he believed was the just cause. Just like Narcissa and Lucius had been like in the beginning. But Narcissa liked to think that she had gained some experience during the last decade, and she was no longer sure that the cause they had chosen to follow was the right one; even less so of the methods.

Without the Dark Lord, Lucius had risen to the top of society and Narcissa had been the envy of everyone she knew. Now Lucius was dead, and even if the Dark Lord had told her and Draco that he had died in a battle fighting for their cause, there were rumours that told otherwise. Now whether their side won the war or not there was no going back to where Narcissa had once been. High society was in shambles, and a widower mother just didn't have the same prestige as the lady of the most powerful man in the country had had.

Narcissa stopped to lean on a windowsill, and looked out towards the extensive grounds of the manor. They too had fallen into disrepair after the death of Lucius. The peacocks that had once adorned the gardens were dead, killed by the werewolves that were part of the Dark Lord's force that was camped inside the Malfoy wards. The famous Malfoy fortune which had been the basis of their power was now gone as well. As soon as Draco had gained control of the keys, he had authorized the Dark Lord to use their vaults as he saw best. Narcissa shook her head. Draco was a naïve child, too accustomed to the power of his family to understand that maintaining that power required hard work and cunning.

Narcissa jumped as a voice from behind interrupted her introspection. No one but the family was supposed to be able to enter the private parts of the manor, and the Dark Lord sent elves if he needed Narcissa for some reason.

"I have a message for you, Narcissa," a portrait said.

"A message? For me?" Narcissa asked, before noticing she didn't quite recognize the man in the picture. But he was a Malfoy, that was sure. "Excuse me, I don't think we've been introduced."

"Hmph. Trust that no good son of mine to completely hide me. I shouldn't have allowed him so much freedom when he was still a brat. And look at where he got the family that I worked so hard to build. Well, allow me to introduce myself, my lady; Abraxas Malfoy, at your service."

"Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, it's pleasant to meet you," Narcissa replied automatically, still a bit baffled by the appearance of her father in law. She had of course heard of Abraxas when she was a child, but he had died two years before she married Lucius. "My husband never talked much about you."

"Wouldn't have expected him to," Abraxas said bitterly. "Not after the way he stabbed me in the back."

"Oh. Well, you said you had a message for me?"

"That's true. The Earl of Blackmoor wants to meet you concerning your son. It seems that _my_ son wasn't the only one to make bad decisions. That grandson of mine has gotten himself in a position where the Malfoy family is in a danger of dying out for good. I wouldn't normally care much about Lucius' kid, but he's what's left of the family."

"My son? And the Earl of Blackmoor... Potter?"

"Yes, Potter. Really, that boy is a halfblood raised by muggles and is a Gryffindor, and still he has managed to play the whole Malfoy family into a corner. Imagine the shame I felt when I learnt his background, Charlus at least was a pureblood and married a Black."

"But what about my son? And why would I need to meet Potter concerning my son? And where I would meet him, I can hardly invite him here."

"Narcissa," Abraxas said with a strained voice. "It's hard enough for me to deliver blackmail to my own family, don't make it any more difficult by not recognizing it as such. Potter wants you to go to the Snapped Wand tavern in Knockturn tomorrow afternoon, alone, and he'll take care of the rest. If you don't, he says the next time you'll see your son will be in prison, and that is if they decide to introduce visiting hours. And he's good at what he does, so if you try something, do it well."

- O -

A portkey deposited Narcissa in a puddle of wet snow. The frown on her face deepened as the freezing water seeped in her small shoes and soiled the hem of her expensive robes. Everything had gone wrong this far: Narcissa had entered the tavern imperiously as she had used to, only to be rudely dismissed and shown to a small room where Dobby of all beings had been waiting for her with a portkey. The wretched little creature hadn't shown even slightest respect to it's former mistress, and had just seen to it that she had no way of taking anyone with her.

Narcissa looked around. The fog that had covered central London was perhaps even thicker where she now was; she was only able to see the ragged silhouettes of stone ruins through the fog. The street she was standing on was littered by signs of a devastating fire that had destroyed the whole neighbourhood, and the feel of dark magic still lingered in the air. She was also able to sense strong wards all over the area.

Directly in front of her she saw light shining through an open doorway in a barely standing wall. Looking closer, she could see the light was cast by a chandelier hanging from a stone vault; directly under it was a table and two comfortable looking chairs. The stone floor under the area was free of snow and rubble. There was a man standing by the table with his back turned to Narcissa, and judging from his formal, though lightweight clothing, it was also covered by charm work keeping the air nice and warm.

As Narcissa started to walk towards the light, her mood darkened as she realized that the portkey had been deliberately targeted outside the comfortably warded area. Furthermore, that the walk through the freezing slush was only a further example of the calculated insults to keep her off balance. She hated to admit that it was working.

The man turned to look at Narcissa before she had time to reach for her wand to dry her shoes and robes, and she immediately recognized Harry. She had of course seen the pictures in the Daily Prophet, but the last time Narcissa had seen the boy - no, young man - in person was in the the Quidditch World Cup two and a half years earlier, and she couldn't quite believe the change. What had once been a shy and uncertain scrawny boy dressed in rags, was now a confident young Lord radiating authority in a way no photograph could convey and that her son would never manage, no matter how much Lucius had tried to coach him. _Or perhaps just because of that_, she thought with conflicting emotions. Sorrow. Longing. Regret. Anger.

"Please sit down, Lady Narcissa," Harry invited, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Make yourself comfortable," the young man gestured at the chair in front of her.

Narcissa complied, and sat down prim and proper on the offered chair despite her less than perfect appearance. Harry settled down across from her and placed his wand on the table, a subtle threat if Narcissa had ever seen one. He rested his hands on the table in easy reach of his wand, and just sat there studying her, seemingly content to give Narcissa the first move.

"Lord Potter," Narcissa asked formally, breaking the silence that was starting to get a bit uncomfortable. "May I ask why we are meeting in a place like this? Surely you would have been able to find a more comfortable place somewhere?"

The mocking grin that grew on Harry's face told Narcissa the question had been a mistake.

"You wound me, my Lady," he said. "Surely you recognize the Ancestral Seat of the Noble and Most Ancient house of Black? I do admit that it has suffered a little since you were a child, mostly when your sister and her Master last paid a visit, but still I thought it was a fitting place for our meeting. I do own the land, after all, and there's more than enough ward stones buried in the ground to make this a very well protected place indeed."

Narcissa didn't respond, but her eyes widened slightly as she finally recognized her surroundings. She was even able to recognize the Black coat of arms in the keystone of the vault above her, even if it was blackened by fire and covered in soot. She had seen it often enough when she was younger that she would never forget it.

"But I didn't invite you just to show off the place," Harry continued. "I'm sure Abraxas told you I wanted to talk about the future of the Malfoy family, but I'm afraid I lied to him. The Malfoy family has no future, your late husband saw to that. But you," Harry said, pointing at Narcissa with his finger, "- and your son, you still have an option. You just need to do as I say."

"And why would I do what a little boy like you says?" Narcissa said, drawing in her best haughty expression.

"Because you won't leave this place if you don't," Harry replied, emphasizing the threat by moving his hand to the wand on the table. "And the chances of your son's survival will drop greatly without your support."

"You think you could take me, a daughter of the house of Black, in a fight?" Narcissa asked, masking her nervousness in haughtiness with practiced ease.

"Frankly, yes. I respect your ability with your wand, but I know I'm better than you are. And there are three other wands pointing at your back."

Narcissa rose up and wheeled around. Daphne, Neville and Hermione had dropped their disillusionment charms and were spread out evenly, standing in the shadows, wands at the ready.

"Please, Narcissa, I'm sure you, along with your late husband, have been in my position often enough to know that you really don't have much of a choice," Harry said.

Narcissa deflated at Harry's words, and turned back to him.

"When I first heard from my son that you were the new Earl of Blackmoor, I wept the state my family had fallen to," she said quietly. "But now I see that you are a true cold hearted bastard."

"From you, I'll take that as a compliment. Now please sit down, and let's talk about what you can do to help me."

"And what about my family? What about me?" Narcissa asked, as she re-took the chair in front of the table. "How can you promise me anything? And how can I know you'll keep those promises?"

"You can't, and I won't promise anything without a price," Harry said firmly. "But I will help you and your son disappear after the war is over. You can start a new life abroad."

"What? The Malfoys have been one of the most prominent families in Britain since the 16th century, and the Blacks even before that. We can't leave the country!"

"You can't stay here, either," Harry countered. "Your late husband saw that the Malfoy name is pariah, and the Blacks are finished thanks to Voldemort. I plan to make changes in our world; I can't afford to spend my influence trying to get mercy for death eaters. The only way I can help you is if you disappear and people believe that you're dead."

Narcissa looked away from Harry, the hopelessness of her situation finally sinking in. "What about my sister?" she asked in a small voice.

Harry tilted his head, watching the woman in front of him. "I don't think it's a good idea to tell Andromeda straight away," he said. "You should first see if you can settle down in your new life before trying to reach for the old one. Contact me in a few years, and I'll consider it again."

Narcissa sighed. "I meant Bellatrix."

"I know you meant her," Harry replied evenly. "But even you must understand that there's nothing anyone can do for her. Even if I thought she had any redeeming qualities, Neville doesn't, and I won't go against him," he finished, gesturing to Neville who was working his jaw trying to quench his anger.

"No, the offer is for you and your son alone," Harry said. "No more, no less."

"And what must I do?" Narcissa replied, her voice sounding resigned.

"You will gather and deliver information on Voldemort's plans to me," Harry said, and stood up. "But first, you will swear an Unbreakable Vow so that I'll know you won't betray me," he said, and motioned Narcissa to follow him. He offered his hand to the older witch, and she hesitantly took hold of Harry's forearm. Daphne walked by and tapped the entwined hands with her wand, and a strand of magic encircled them initiating the vow.

"Do you, Narcissa Malfoy, swear to never betray Lord Harry Potter, Earl of Blackmoor, or any his secrets?" she intoned, holding her wand steady over the hands.

"I do," Narcissa said, and second strand of magic added to the first.

"And do you swear to work, to your best ability, to help Lord Potter in his quest to rid this world of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the self styled Dark Lord Voldemort?" Daphne continued.

"I do."

Another strand of magic appeared, and joined the previous two around Harry and Narcissa's hands.

"And do you swear to follow Lord Potter's instructions after his quest is finished?"

Narcissa deflated visibly at the last request. "I do," she said in a small, fragile voice, and a final strand of magic was added to the vow.

"So have you sworn, should you be found guilty of breaking this solemn oath may magic have mercy on your soul." Daphne intoned the finishing verses of the unbreakable vow, and sealed it with a final tap of her wand. The strands of magic sunk in the connected hands, and a bright flash of light told that the ritual was complete.

"Now go," Harry said as the released each others hands. "When you have information for me, you can make contact via Abraxas. I'll take care of the rest."

"But what about my son? If the Dark Lord learns Draco has betrayed him..."

"Well, that should be a good incentive for you to do your best, shouldn't it?" Harry asked. "Remember, the more you can tell me, the more likely it is you two will survive the war."

Narcissa stared at Harry, who looked back without moving a muscle. Finally she sighed, turned away and left the ruins silently, looking every bit the defeated mother who had just sold her soul to protect her child that she was.

Only after Narcissa had disappeared, whisked away by portkey, did tension fade from Harry. He leaned heavily against the desk with both of hands, turning his back to the others. He sensed Daphne coming behind him, and felt her hands circling around his chest, caressing him through his shirt.

"I love it when you are forceful like that," Daphne whispered huskily in his ear. "That's when I can see the man you will be in a couple of years, leading the country."

Harry smiled a little, and relaxed to Daphne's caress. "Well, I think that's good enough for me, then," he replied. "I wasn't entirely sure if this is the right thing to do, even though I see the necessity."

Daphne forced Harry around and brought her face right in front of his. "Less thinking, Harry; I wouldn't love a cruel man," she said. "Although I will be upset if you continue to show that side of you only when there's older, widowed women around."

- O -

"A little bit to the left, I think," Harry directed, standing next to the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirements. He watched as Neville levitated an old taxidermic display with all kinds of creatures onto a large pile of junk. The display rested in front of a transfigured slab of granite ten feet above the floor.

"There, perfect. I can't see anything now."

The Room of Lost things was different from the others incarnations of the Room of Requirements in that it didn't respond well to wishes, but remained the same. Harry speculated it had something to do with the vast amount of people that had used the room during centuries, but no matter what the reason was, it meant the defensive positions had to be prepared without help from the Room itself.

"Looks good," Daphne said, walking next to Harry from across the clearing, where she and Hermione had been adding final touches to the camouflage: layers of dust and cobwebs.

"It does," Harry agreed. "Voldemort won't see it coming when he comes through that door."

There was a silence as the watched Neville climb down from the platform and waited for him to walk around the piles to join them.

"Now we just need to just wait for whatever nasties Fred and George will come up with," Neville said. "Do you know when they are going to be ready?"

"They said it should take a couple of weeks still," Harry answered. "I'll have to arrange with Amelia how we get them inside without raising suspicion or unnecessary alarms with the aurors on guard."

A soft pop caused all four of them to turn, and Harry's hand went to his wand.

"Dobby?" he asked.

"Dobby has a letter for Harry Potter, Sir," the elf squeaked, thrusting an envelope at Harry. "Old Mistress' bird dropped it for you."

"What? A letter?" Harry asked, taking the heavy parchment envelope that had a magnificent wax seal holding it closed. "But I told Narcissa to contact me via the portraits, why would she send me a letter?"

Dobby shrugged his boney shoulders and disappeared with another soft pop.

Daphne looked at the letter. "I guess she wasn't too happy with the outcome of the meeting," she said. "This is probably the furthest her vow allowed her to rebel."

Harry frowned. "At least she used a secure seal," he said, examining the blob of wax that had the Malfoy crest proudly embedded in it. "I very much doubt even Dumbledore could get past this kind of charms without destroying the message."

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Harry nodded, and poked his thumb with his wand and smeared a drop of blood on the seal. The wax glowed briefly, and then broke with barely audible snap.

Harry's frown deepened as he read through the letter.

"Well, what does she have to say?" Neville asked.

"This... I can't make any sense of these numbers," Harry said, his eyes scanning the neatly written lines again and again. "Giants, werewolves, thugs from Eastern Europe... He can't hope to sneak that kind of force through the cabinet."

"Maybe he doesn't plan on sneaking in," Neville observed, looking over Harry's shoulder. "That sounds more like an invasion force."

"That wouldn't work either," Hermione said. "Hogwarts can withstand a siege; there's one chapter in _Hogwarts, a history, _that describes how in the 14th century an army of Scandinavian wizards were forced to withdraw after a four month siege after their dragons ate all the livestock in hundred mile radius."

"And the wards have only got stronger since," Harry agreed. "Lastly when the prisoners were brought here from Azkaban."

Harry paused and looked through the numbers once again. "And he couldn't win a straight on battle even without the wards. I mean, this looks like a lot of troops, but the auror force has been getting stronger, too, and unlike these thugs they actually have training and discipline to work together. And that's before you count in Dumbledore or the students."

"Well, then there's only one logical conclusion," Daphne said. "Voldemort isn't going to fight in an open battle. He might be insane, but he's not stupid."

"It's a bloody diversion!" Harry suddenly ground out. "He hopes to draw out the aurors guarding the prisoners here as well as Dumbledore, before he strikes against Hogwarts through here. He doesn't care if his army is utterly destroyed, they are all expendable to him, just creatures."

Harry sighed. "And the worst thing is we can't afford to ignore such diversion. Too many innocent lives would be at stake."

"So what shall we do?" Hermione asked. "Abort, and destroy the cabinet?"

Harry bit his cheek, weighing his options. "No," he said finally. "This is the best chance we'll ever get at taking down Voldemort for good. And if we just destroy the cabinet, Voldemort will kill the Malfoys, and we'll be left without any spies inside."

Harry drew his hand through his hair. "It seems I'll have to ask the DA after all. And I guess I'd better see the minister sooner than later."

- O -

"Why is it that I always hear about these things from you and not my subordinates?" Amelia asked, tapping her desk in agitation after Harry had told her the news about Voldemort's forces.

"It's because they are aurors, ma'am," Harry answered. "They have to follow procedures, and as such they can't do what I can. It's one of the reasons why I pushed so hard on you when I asked you to give me carte blanche to do what I needed to fight Voldemort."

Amelia frowned, but nodded. "And who is this source of yours?"

Harry sighed, and averted his eyes. "It's better that you don't know. I promised them freedom after the war is over, but they really don't deserve to be called heroes just because I had the means to force them into helping me. No one will ever know who they were, and I'll make sure they'll disappear for good after this is over."

Amelia looked disappointed, but le the issue slip. "Back to the information. Do you have any ideas what it means?"

"Well, it's certain that Voldemort will be attacking Hogwarts before or on Easter. As to the rest of the forces that simply can't fit through, I believe they will stage a diversion to draw the aurors out of the castle. But no matter what it will be, he can't hope to win against the full force of the ministry."

Amelia looked at the numbers written on the slip of parchment in front of her, considering Harry's theory. "Are you sure Hogwarts is his main target?" she asked, doing calculations in her head. "If he attacks multiple locations at the same time, the aurors will be quickly spread very thin. And he doesn't need to have a force big enough to beat us all if he can divide us into smaller groups. As the attacker he will always have the advantage in mobility, while we have to regroup every time we move to respond to an attack."

Amelia looked at Harry seriously. "And that would leave more than just Hogwarts with little defence."

"He will come to Hogwarts," Harry said. "Hogwarts has too much symbolic value to him, and he seems to be hell bent on killing me himself."

Amelia started to tap a different tune with her fingers. "That is a good argument," she agreed, stopping abruptly. "But I really don't feel comfortable going into what would likely be a decisive confrontation without concrete evidence."

"What would you suggest we do?" Harry asked.

"Try to get more information from you source," Amelia said. "When, where, et cetera. I'll see if I can start arranging the DMLE for the fight. Subtly, of course."

"Of course," Harry agreed. "Well, I'll see what I can do. And I'll keep you informed, Minister."

"That's all I ask, Mr. Potter."

- O -

Harry sat heavily down on a chair next to the table where Daphne and Hermione were working on their Defence homework, surrounded by the silencing charms keeping the library quiet.

"Well, how did your meeting with the minister go?" Daphne asked, laying down her quill.

Harry drew his hand through his hair. "I don't know," he said. "Amelia wasn't too enthusiastic about the situation, but she did raise some good points: do we know for sure that Voldemort will attack Hogwarts?"

"But didn't we agree that Hogwarts means too much for Voldemort for him to not to attack here?"

"Yeah, but that was before we knew about the size of his force. Amelia thinks Voldemort might be going for a complete takeover, and now that I've thought about it, I tend to agree. And it that case it might very well make more sense for him to either stay behind commanding his forces, or fight somewhere else where there might be more need for him."

"So what do you think we should do?" Hermione asked, having just given her essay on defensive strategies against vampires it's final touches.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "Amelia thinks we should try to get more information from Narcissa before we decide on anything."

Daphne leaned back in her chair. "Getting more information is always a good thing to do," she agreed. "But maybe we could also try to do something to ensure that Voldemort will come here himself? Like laying a bait for him."

"A bait?" Hermione asked. "What would he want other than already mentioned?"

"Well, I don't honestly know," Daphne said. "But I think it's something we should think about."

"He wants me dead," Harry said. "Remember last year? He did nothing but planned the elaborate trap for me just to get his hands on the prophecy. He's afraid that it means more than we know it means."

"So if we somehow imply to him that the prophecy means his only chance to beat Harry is to attack soon..."

"Yeah, that might work," Harry agreed. "But how do we get him to think that way?"

"We could always try to feed him information through Draco," Hermione suggested. "But that might turn too much attention to him. We don't want Voldemort to be suspicious about Draco."

Harry toyed with a quill he took from the table. "What about the _Prophet_?" Harry asked. "I could get them to publish an article to the effect that I believe the war will be over soon, and that I'm working on taking down Voldemort despite his horcruxes. We could probably even get the ministry to corroborate the story, and Draco could then also send a report confirming that I'm 'planning something'."

Daphne looked thoughtful, and shot an uncertain look at Harry and then Hermione. "That sounds like a good plan," she said carefully. "You are the best of us with the quill, Hermione. Maybe you should go to write a draft of the article?"

Hermione was taken aback by the sudden dismissal, but shrugged and gathered her things. "Sure. I'll go up to the tower and get started with it."

She stuffed her essay and quills in her bag, and left Harry and Daphne alone.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, when Hermione had left the library.

Daphne sighed and looked away. "I have an idea, but I wanted to tell it to you personally. You might not like it."

"What is it?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Well, Hermione thought that Draco would be too risky messenger, and I agree. Voldemort knows that Draco couldn't get the prophecy from you even if he tried, and he would be immediately suspicious," Daphne said, and turned her eyes back to Harry. "But what if Itold him about it?"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "How would that be any less suspicious?"

Daphne bowed her head. "You remember when I first approached you? I did it because I believed I could gain personal benefit from your influence. Only later I came to see you as a friend and more."

"But Voldemort doesn't see anything but personal benefit," she continued. "If he thinks I could gain more by betraying you, he wouldn't question it for a moment. Because that's what he would do."

Harry shook his head. "No," he said resolutely. "I won't allow that. It's too risky. What if Voldemort decides he wants to see you personally? What if he asks you to do something to prove yourself? And it doesn't take more than a suspicion that it is a trap and everything we have planned could go down the drain."

"But Harry –"

"No. You have taught me to make decisions, and this is me making one. We go with the article in the Prophet, and see how Voldemort reacts. If he doesn't, we can think of something else."

- O -

_HARRY POTTER SAYS THE WAR IS OVER!_

_The Boy-Who-Lived calls You-Know-Who a common criminal in an exclusive interview._

_The legend of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, has risen to new heights in the last two years. His victory of the controversial Tri-Wizard Tournament showed us there was there was true talent to back up the reputation, and since his entry to the wizarding politics in the historic Wizengamot meeting last summer he took the Fudge government down like a whirlwind. Our favourite hero has since caused sweeping changes in the Ministry of Magic, and along with his friends battled Death Eaters and Dementors. Rumors also state that the current minister Amelia Bones can thank the young Potter for saving her life last summer. Therefore we at the Daily Prophet were overjoyed when Lord Potter graciously accepted one of our many requests for interview with him, and with huge news to tell at that._

_"The so called war against Voldemort is over," Mr. Potter stated with calm confidence. "While he himself is still at large and definitely dangerous, what is happening cannot be described as a war by any definition of the word. Voldemort and his lackeys are common criminals, and will be apprehended by the aurors sooner or later." _

"_The days of the self proclaimed 'Dark Lord' are also numbered," Mr. Potter continued. "Although he has dabbled with the darkest magic which allowed him to survive when he fell the day he murdered my parents, I have been working with the ministry to find a way to counter these foul rituals. We are confident we will be ready come summer."_

_Our sources inside the ministry weren't able to confirm this claim, but it is understandable that they are protected by the tightest of secrecy. However, Mr. Potter has been seen visiting Minister Bones often, and he is also reportedly training with the aurors, showing remarkable skill for someone of his age._

_Mr. Potter also brought to question the motivations behind the actions of the so called Dark Lord. "If the opposition was fighting for a cause, war would be a proper name for what is and has been happening," he said while sitting confidently at a table in a tavern in Hogsmeade where this interview was conducted. "But is Voldemort really trying to advance his stated goal of elevating the status of pure blood wizarding families and promoting the preservation of the purity of blood?"_

_While Mr. Potter admitted that he probably isn't the most unbiased man to judge Voldemort's success in his stated goals, he pointed at the number of ancient families that have been wiped out or almost so, and the amount of magical blood that has been spilled in the fighting. "It seems to me that Voldemort is merely using the 'blood-issue' as a shroud around his true goals to attract supporters and financiers," Mr. Potter stated._

_To support his claim of Voldemort's hidden motivations, Mr. Potter reminded us of what he said during the Solstice party, and gave us some additional information of the man behind the mask: the real identity of Voldemort is in fact that of a half-blood wizard named Tom Marvolo Riddle. His chosen name is merely an anagram of his real name._

_Careful fact-checking done by the reporters of the Daily Prophet revealed this information to be true and led to the following revelations about the self styled dark lord: The famous wand-maker, Garric Ollivander, confirms that he sold the wand currently used by Voldemort to then eleven year old Riddle. Hogwarts yearbooks show that Riddle was a member of the Slytherin house, and eventually became head boy during school year of 1944-1945; already managing to fool students and teachers alike as a student. Voldemort's journey down the darker path began during his time in school; at this early age he was involved in the death of fellow student Myrtle Midhurst and later the murder of his own muggle family. Although he graduated with surprisingly high marks given his murderous nature, he didn't go on to work in the Ministry or take an apprenticeship; instead Riddle worked briefly as a mere clerk at a second hand shop associated with dark artefacts in Knockturn Alley. Shortly after this he was rebuffed by Headmaster Dumbledore from attaining the position of Professor of Defence Against Dark Arts at Hogwarts. There is little known of his deeds between that time and his first public appearances as the criminal known as Voldemort in the seventies._

_Before he left, Mr. Potter wanted us to print a personal message to Tom Riddle: "When you cowardly attacked me all those years ago, you set into motion forces you cannot fathom. When I'm ready, and I will be sooner than you think, there is nowhere you can hide from your fate."_

_We at the Daily Prophet hope that the criminal will meet his fate sooner rather than later._

-x-

Harry closed the paper and looked around. Students in every table were reading the _Prophet_, and more than one pair of eyes were looking in his direction, only to be diverted when Harry returned their gaze.

"Do you think this will be enough?" Hermione asked quietly.

"It has to," Harry said. "I don't have any other idea what to do if it doesn't."

"There is still my idea..." Daphne started.

"No," Harry stopped her forcefully. "I won't allow that. There's too many risks in it to be acceptable. And I believe this will work."

Hermione looked between Harry and Daphne. "Well, Voldemort does seem like the type who won't take this kind of thing sitting down," she said and gestured to the paper. "And we already thought it was pretty likely that Hogwarts is Voldemort's main target."

"So what's next?" Neville asked, having just finished eating his breakfast.

"The next step is to actually gather the people for the ambush," Harry explained. "We already concluded that we can't really ask for the aurors as they're probably needed elsewhere, and Amelia agrees. So we need to figure out who of the students we'll ask, and how."

"Well, the Defence Association is the obvious first choice," Neville offered.

"It's the only choice," Harry countered. "They are the only ones we know can handle themselves in a fight. My first option would be those who signed up in the first place when it was still underground, but that's not enough, and frankly not all of them are good enough. I won't accept anyone underage; Amelia was adamant that she won't tolerate it if I get any underage students hurt in a fight without their parents knowing, and I agree with her."

Harry glanced at Neville who was about to protest. "You'll be an exemption, Neville. Your grandmother already knows what you are doing, and we can trust her. But others are different."

"Susan and Hannah are both of age," Neville offered, relieved that Harry wouldn't try to leave him out.

"Yes they are," Harry said. "They were both high on my list already. And although Amelia isn't happy about it, she knows Susan won't simply lay low when the fighting starts."

"What about those Slytherin seventh years that joined in January?" Hermione asked. "They seem competent enough."

"What do you think of them, Daphne?" Harry asked.

"Well, I know their families weren't involved with Voldemort last time; and they are comfortably well off enough that they would be stupid to risk it by joining him now."

"Right," Harry said, and jotted down their names on the margin of the Prophet.

"What about Tracey? Zabini?" he continued. "Zabini's shown pretty amazing skill, I don't remember him being that good in defence classes."

"Tracey's not of age," Daphne replied. "Her birthday is in May. About Zabini, well, I heard his mother married once again two years ago. This time it's some old duelist who was thrown out of the circuit for some reason. Blaise doesn't normally spend much time with his stepfathers, but I guess he realized that Voldemort is back, too, and didn't want to be caught unprepared."

"Do we trust him?"

Daphne thought for a moment. "I don't really know him enough to say that I trust him, but I've never seen him doing anything to say otherwise, either. Besides, we're going to force everyone to sign the contract anyway."

Harry sighed. "I guess you're right. It's not like we have much of a choice; the more people we have shooting spells at Voldemort the safer it will be for everyone."

"What about Cho and Marietta?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed and laid down his quill. "I think Cho originally joined just to be close to me after what happened to Cedric. They know their spells, but I don't think they could really handle an actual fight."

"Hmm, that's probably true," Hermione agreed. "How about Cormac? Katie?"

"Katie, definitely. I don't know about McLaggen, though. He seems like a braggart to me. He's always claiming credit for his team's victories, saying it's his strategies that help them, but I'm not convinced."

Hermione looked at the clock on the wall. "We have time to think about this and decide later," she said. "Especially when we hear from Narcissa if the article did it's job. But now we need to get to the class, you know how McGonagall is if we're late."

- O -

Late that night Harry was laying in his bed, curtains drawn and silenced, working on the homework McGonagall had given them, when Dobby popped in on his legs.

"Dobby?" Harry started, his wand lowering. "What are you doing here?"

"Dobby is here to deliver a message from Harry Potter Sir's grandfather in the painting," the elf said, bouncing up and down. "The painting says that Mister Abe says that the old Mistress wishes to tell Mister Harry Potter Sir that the evil wizard is angry at what the paper said and that he wants to hurt Harry Potter Sir before Easter."

"Dobby wants not to see Mister Harry Potter Sir to get hurt; how can Dobby help Mister Harry Potter Sir?"

Harry looked at the elf for a few long moments, trying to decipher the message.

"You're doing just fine, Dobby," Harry answered finally. "Did Narcissa have anything else to say?"

Dobby wrung his wrists. "Harry Potter Sir's grandfather in the painting wanted Dobby to tell Harry Potter Sir that old mistress has heard rumours that there is another nasty kid in Hogwarts and that Mister Harry Potter Sir should be careful not to reveal his plan to them."

Dobby drew his ears down in front of his face. "But Dobby doesn't know who the nasty kid is, and when Dobby doesn't know Dobby can't help Mister Harry Potter Sir."

"There's more Death Eaters in the castle?" Harry asked, more to himself. "Don't worry too much, Dobby. You're doing great, and I'll be careful."

"Sir thinks Dobby is doing great?" the elf asked, his huge eyes peering up at Harry between his ears. "Sir is truly a great wizard! Dobby will not let sir down!"

With a barely audible pop Dobby was gone, and Harry leaned back against his pillow, homework forgotten.

_'Now I'll just have to survive the endgame. And find that other Death Eater before they find me.'_

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews and favorites! And again huge thanks to my beta Majerus, who has the patience to wait for me, and the punctuality to work through my writings as soon as I finish them!

Three more chapters + epilogue to go.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

-o0oOo0o-

"So the plan is working as intended?" Neville asked after Harry had finished explaining Narcissa's message from the previous night. The four friends were lounging in the Room of Requirement, enjoying the Saturday afternoon in the warmth of a fire while the North Sea was throwing its might at the highlands of Scotland.

"Yeah, it seems like it did. Good work, Hermione. You really outdid yourself with that article."

Hermione blushed at the praise, and smiled. "When are you going to tell the news to the minister?" she asked. "We might get help from the aurors after all."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think we will," he said. "Voldemort will still order most of his troops elsewhere, and the aurors are needed to protect the people. But I will go see Amelia tomorrow; I'll need to ask for a favour so that Fred and George can deliver their goods in secrecy. Can't be too careful with the unknown spy in the castle."

"Do you have any idea who it might be?" Daphne asked. "Has Sasha seen anything suspicious?"

"No, she hasn't," Harry said with a sigh. "And although I hate to be prejudiced, Slytherin was always going to be our best bet. The spy is either a lot better than Draco, or in a different house. Both of which are bad news for us. The next four weeks will be busy and the article drew even more attention to us. And Voldemort must not know what we are planning."

Daphne leaned against Harry and lifted her feet on the sofa they were sharing. "Then we'll just have to be very careful. But let's not talk only about Voldemort," she said. "There is more to life than just the war. Tell me, what do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

Hermione perked up visibly at the question. "Well, I for one want to continue my studies in a university. I think there is a lot of potential in combining muggle theories with magic; medicine, electricity, material science and such."

- O -

Later, when they were leaving the room for dinner, Harry held Daphne behind.

"Daphne, I want to give you something," he said, and dug into his pocket. "I originally intended this as your birthday present, but with all that's happening I thought it would be stupid to wait."

Daphne looked at the small wrapped package curiously. "What is it?"

Harry handed the package over. "Open it and see for yourself."

Daphne tore into the wrapping, and opened the small jewelry box inside. Laying on dark blue velvet was a finely polished piece of clear mountain crystal entwined delicately in the finest gold thread imaginable. The gold was weaved around the edges of the crystal in intricate patterns, and the whole thing was attached to a golden chain.

Something inside the crystal caught Daphne's attention. Suspended in the matrix of the mineral were small runes, red as blood.

"Harry," she said. "How… Where did you find this? These are blood runes, Harry. They are illegal."

"Yes they are," Harry agreed. "Because they can be used to steal someone's magic. But I made this myself, and my magic is mine to use however I want to."

Harry took the chain from Daphne and fastened it around her neck. "And I want it to protect you."

"But…" Daphne said, lifting the jewel to see it closer. "What if something happens to me? What will happen to you?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. These runes aren't exactly professional made, so I don't know how efficient they are. But my mother died to protect me; I couldn't do anything less."

"Don't say that," Daphne said. "No one will die. We're all going to be just fine."

"But still," Harry insisted. "I want you to have this. We both know that ambushing someone is all too easy here. And with Voldemort's spy inside the school…"

Daphne took one final look of the jewel before tucking it under her shirt, and hugged Harry. "It's alright. I'll wear it if it makes you happy."

A commotion from the direction of the door interrupted them. Daphne separated herself from Harry, who drew his wand and positioned himself between her and the door. Soon Draco stormed in clutching a piece of parchment in his hand.

"I just got a message from the Dark Lord," he said, breathing heavily, and waved the parchment. "I don't know what possessed you to give that interview, but it sure made him angry. He wants to kill you for those things you said, and is pressuring me to finish repairing the cabinet."

Harry sighed, and stowed his wand away. "Yes, I know," he said calmly. "Don't try to make yourself into more important than you are by thinking you are the only one giving me information about Voldemort's plans. And try to be a little more discreet in the future; there are other death eating students in the castle, and it would be very unfortunate if you managed to raise suspicion. Voldemort isn't exactly the trusting type."

Draco flustered at the admonishment, but couldn't say anything against it. "But... But I don't know if I can finish the cabinet in time," he stammered. "And if I fail, I will be dead anyway."

Harry shrugged. "I don't see how your potential failure is my problem," he said. "But on the other hand I need the cabinet for my plan. I guess I could ask Hermione to help you, she was able to spot your mistakes in seconds when we first found out what you were doing."

"Granger?" Draco asked. "But she's a –" he trailed off.

"A girl?" Harry asked, deliberately misunderstanding Draco. "I thought you had already grown over the 'girls are yucky' phase, but guess I was wrong."

"No, I meant…"

"Yes, I know what you meant, and I couldn't care less. I need that cabinet, and Hermione can help with that. Don't forget that your continuing freedom is totally dependent on me; you will do just as I tell you to."

- O -

_Time sure flies by when you are busy, _Harry thought as he sneaked through the hallways in the middle of the night. The last two weeks had been stressful for him, trying to get all the pieces in place for the final confrontation. _And arranging for Daphne's birthday_, he added to himself. Almost all of his free time had been eaten by preparations, and the fact that there still was an unknown death eater lurking somewhere in the castle didn't help at all. Despite all his attention to secrecy there was no way to be sure that Voldemort was still in the dark about his plans, and Harry had lost more than one night's sleep worrying over it. So much depended on everything staying secret.

Things hadn't been all bad, though. Hermione had agreed to help Draco with the cabinet, and it was already almost ready, needing only small final adjustments before it would be operational. They had agreed to delay doing that until everything else was in place, so that there would be no chance for death eaters to accidentally stumble through it. News from Fred and George were also good. They had completed their package for Harry, and would be delivering tonight. Hence the sneaking up towards the towers.

The minister had come through, too. With the latest information Harry had received the official approval for his plan, and Amelia had also been kind enough to arrange for the auror guards in the castle to be favourable for this night. One final look at the Marauder's Map to check that his target was alone, and Harry stepped out to the battlements of the North tower.

The weather was clear and stars were shining shining against the night sky of Scotland, when Harry ghosted up to the pink haired auror huddled in her cloak and looking into the black, keeping watch.

"Hello, Tonks," he said, causing the auror to stumble in surprise drawing her wand before she recognized Harry in the small light he had lighted in his wand

"Merlin, Harry! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Nymphadora squeaked. "Especially when I'm on duty!"

"Well, you should keep better watch, then," Harry said cheekily. "Constant Vigilance!"

"Why you...! We're watching for attacks from the outside, not inside."

"Have you seen anything on the outside?" Harry asked, walking to the battlements and looking into darkness.

"No, not really," Tonks answered. "The brass is still twitchy after that article of yours, though. That's why they're posting more experienced aurors on guard duty. At least that's what I was told."

Harry turned back to Tonks, and looked at her sheepishly. "Actually it was I who asked for you," he said. "I'm waiting for a delivery, and I needed someone I can trust. Someone who wouldn't just shoot them out of the sky before asking questions. Amelia was happy to help."

"What?!" Tonks shouted. "You are the reason I'm standing out here in the cold instead of sleeping in my bed at home?"

"Well, yes. Fred and George should be here any moment now. And at least you got to talk with me; doesn't that count for anything?"

"No! But as I'm here, you had better give some proper gossip. For example, how's Daphne?"

"She's fine," Harry answered. "What happened to her sister before Christmas hit her pretty hard, but she's mostly over with it. I'll take her to Paris for her birthday."

"Paris?" Tonks asked. "Lucky girl. If you werent too young for me I'd steal you for myself," she said in a sultry voice, changing her hair into wavy blond and enhancing her other assets to the limits of her auror uniform.

Harry fought the urge to gape at Tonks' expanding chest and forced the coming blush out from his face. "Blondes aren't really my type," he managed to say. "And I'd feel guilty for stealing you from Moony. How's the old wolf anyway?"

"I thought you were interested in women," Tonks teased, before she sighed and reverted back to her usual look. "The stubborn man is still saying that he's not good enough for me," she said. "I try to explain that it's my job to decide what's good enough for me, but does he listen? No. But at least there has been some improvement in the situation. He actually asked me out next weekend."

Harry nodded and leaned against the battlements. He could certainly sympathise with how Remus felt, having said something to the effect himself. But he could see Tonks' point, too. He wondered whether Daphne and Hermione had felt the same when he had tried to distance himself from them. Probably.

Harry tucked his hands in his pockets trying to keep himself warm. Early March in Scotland was still chilling, especially in the middle of the night. A roll of parchment in his pocket reminded him of the other reason why he had asked Amelia for Tonks.

"Tonks," he asked. "Could I ask you for a favour?"

"You already owe me enough for getting me out here," she replied with a grin. "So what's a little extra debit?"

"Great, I knew I could count on you," Harry said, and offered the parchment to her. "Could you give this to Moody? Owls don't seem to be able to reach him."

"Old Mad-Eye is paranoid like that," Tonks explained, and took the parchment. "Gave me one hell of a headache when he was training me. But why don't you ask Dumbledore?"

"I don't really want to tell Dumbledore what I'm planning too early," Harry said, turning back to watch the night. "I doubt he would appreciate my methods."

Tonks stowed the parchment inside her robes and positioned herself next to Harry. "You're probably right," she said. "He definitely would have handled Nott differently."

Harry didn't say anything, but continued to stare into darkness. In a way Dumbledore did have a point, he thought, but sometimes doing what was right just had too high a price. Sometimes aiming stubbornly for the best prevented you from gaining even the good.

"Look, over there!" Tonks' exclamation brought Harry back from his thoughts. A single green spark was arching against the black of the sky over the Forbidden Forest.

"That's them, alright," Harry said, brandishing his wand. A green spark flew out of it, rising over the castle in response. Two red sparks followed immediately from above the forest.

"And that's the agreed reply," Harry explained. "Stand back, they should have quite a lot of stuff for me."

Harry and Tonks waited in the darkness, Harry keeping a small light in his wand for the twins to fly towards and Tonks taking care that their approach didn't trip any alarms. Soon enough Fred and George touched down with their brooms, lowering a large crate to the roof between them.

"Good to see you, Harry, Tonks," Fred greeted them.

"You too, guys," Harry answered, and looked pointedly at the crate. "You have been busy, I see."

"That we were," George agreed. "It was fun, though. I can't imagine how much mayhem we would have managed with this kind of resources while still in school."

"What?" Tonks asked, rounding at Harry. "Are you saying that you had the minister to assign me to guard duty in the middle of the bloody night so that you could smuggle pranking equipment to the school?"

Harry cringed. "No... let me explain-"

"Yes," Fred interrupted with a smile. "We're so proud of ickle Harrienkins. No matter how hard we tried we couldn't get even the teachers to help us, and he goes straight to the minister."

"No, these two jokers just see everything as pranks," Harry said, backing away from the irritated witch. "I'm not preparing a prank, but an ambush for Voldemort. He'll attack before Easter; that article was just another part of the plan, trying to ensure he comes after me personally."

Tonks stopped, and her hair went limp. "You were intentionally taunting Voldemort to get him come to you?"

"Yes," George said, pride in his voice. "I've always said Harry has some big balls to do what he does, but lately I've been wondering how he manages to hide them in his trousers."

"Not to mention how strong he has to be to carry them," Fred continued. "That big chunks of steel can't be light."

"But why?" Tonks asked. "Why would you want Voldemort to target you?"

Harry sighed. "It's the prophecy," he said. "Voldemort will try to kill me no matter what; this way I'll have the initiative instead of just waiting for him to lay a trap for me. I can't live my life watching constantly over my shoulder, this war has to end."

Tonks looked at Harry soberly. "Just... just be careful, Harry," she said. "Voldemort is no Nott. Don't underestimate him."

"I won't," Harry assured. "That's why I have the twins here. I plan to fight as dirty and unfair as possible. And I have a plan. That's more than any other time I've faced him."

"I won't ask, but I guess there's quite a story behind that comment about Nott," Fred said while George was opening the crate. "But there's a few things we need to show you. Instructions and stuff."

George took out a small stone tablet and smaller wooden box from the crate. "We packed a bit of everything in here," he explained gesturing at the various items in the crate. "There's a couple of portable swamps, an _Arachnid's Assault_ web launcher, -"

"- A specialized version of our Whizz-Bang fireworks," Fred continued. "It'll blind anyone looking; we're thinking we should name it _Weasleys' Flash-Bang Fireworks_."

"Then there's a couple of dozen doses of the _Fluffy Bunny_ contact potion that proved huge success when we were attacked in the summer," George added.

Fred handed the stone tablet to Harry. "They are all tied to this," he said. "You can activate it all by tapping your wand here," he pointed at a red circle with runes in the middle of the stone. "Try not to trigger it before it's time."

Harry too a careful look at the tablet, before pocketing it. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at the box George had taken out.

"Ah, this," Fred said, running his hand reverently over the surface of the lid before reaching at the clasp that was keeping it closed. "This is a thing of pure beauty."

Fred carefully opened the box, revealing a large glass jar half-full of viscous brown liquid, suspended mid air by magic.

"What is it?" Harry asked, looking at the Fred and George's almost blissful expressions.

"This, my young friend, is half a gallon of pure, distilled, erumpent fluid," George said with a flourish of his hand.

"Elixir of gods, that's what it is," Fred added. "Stuff that dreams are made of. We use it for our fireworks, but we thought it would be a perfect surprise for the Dark Wanker and his merry men."

"Are you crazy?" Tonks shouted, taking a couple of steps away from the container. "That much of erumpent fluid could... could..."

"What does it do?" Harry asked, looking curiously between Tonks, the twins and the innocent looking fluid in the suspended container.

"It explodes," Tonks said dryly. "Harry, there's a very good reason why erumpent fluid is a restricted substance, and I've never heard of anyone handling that big amounts at once before."

Harry looked at the jar with new respect. "I think I'll find use for it," he said. "Is that connected to the same trigger?"

"No," Fred said, producing a small box from his pocket. "The trigger is in here; first you have to tap it with your wand and say the password -"

"You know what that is," George piped in.

"Yes," Fred continued. "After that you have to arm the trigger. You do that by pushing magic into the charging rune inside: that should take around five seconds. Then you can open the secondary trigger guard with this key," he explained, handing Harry a small golden key. "Then tap the trigger with your wand just like the other one."

Harry looked at the small box and the key in his hands. "That's... That's a lot of security."

"Yes it is," George agreed with atypical seriousness. "But Tonks is right. This is genuinely dangerous stuff, and it shouldn't be taken lightly."

"I'll be careful, I promise," Harry said. "What about the brooms?"

"Ah, you'll like this one," Fred said, reaching to the crate once more. "Appleby is upgrading to Firebolts and we managed to buy their old ones. Two dozen Nimbus 2000's at dirt cheap. And we got an advertising deal for reduced price, too."

"They're used, of course, but professional teams have professionals taking care of them, too," George said as Harry took the offered broom.

"A lot of companies are cutting their marketing because of the war," Fred continued. "We secured a long term contract counting on you to end this war."

"Now we only need to get you playing for them, and we'll have enough publicity to go global," George finished.

Harry ran his hand over the polished handle of the broom. The Firebolt he had received from Sirius was priceless for him, but the Nimbus 2000 would always have a special place in this heart.

"Thank you guys," Harry said, emotion causing his voice to hitch. He cleared his throat. "Could you help me get this stuff down to the Room of Requirements? Then I'm sure you'd like to go to bed, too."

- O -

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Hermione asked as Harry carefully positioned the erumpent fluid behind the Vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement. "What if it kills Voldemort? Weren't we supposed to try and get him alive?"

"It won't," Harry said confidently. "He's too much of a bastard to die that easily. And even if he does, it just means we have to find the last horcruxes. And I doubt he has left them far from his sight after hiding them proved unsuccessful."

"Well, I guess you're right," Hermione replied, still uncertain.

Harry pushed himself up to his feet, and examined his handiwork. All of Fred and George's items were carefully hidden among the junk surrounding their killzone, and the erumpent fluid behind the cabinet would be the final touch before the DA fighters would join the fight. Once detonated, the erumpent fluid would turn the cabinet into a deadly hail of splinters, utterly destroying Voldemort's only possible escape route in the process. And if they were really lucky, it just might knock Voldemort and his followers out of the fight before they even realized they had walked into a trap.

"Make no mistake," Harry continued. "Voldemort is damn dangerous. We just can't afford to lose initiative in the fight. If it means we have to take the risk of a setback, so be it. I'm not going to risk my friends any more than I have to."

"Still, it's a pity we have to destroy the cabinet after I have spent time to repair it. It truly is a fascinating artefact, and it has been a wonderful learning experience."

Harry chuckled. "Trust you to think about learning even when ambushing Dark Lords," he said. "Never change, Hermione."

"Well, I won't," Hermione said indignantly. "What are the brooms for?"

Harry took one of the brooms and gave it to Hermione. "They are the exit strategy in case things go bad," he explained.

"But I can't fly!"

"Then it's time to learn," Harry said. "If it comes to it, I will burn the whole room down with fiendfyre. There is no way Voldemort will survive that with the cabinet gone, and all of you need to get out as fast as possible."

Hermione paled. "But Harry! That's awfully dangerous. Can you even control it?"

"I don't know," Harry said wearily. "It's not really a spell you can practice a lot with. But one way or another Voldemort will go down in here."

"I know you can handle it if needed," Daphne said, hugging Harry. "And I know it won't be needed. Voldemort is good, but no one is that good."

- O -

Finally the equinox and Daphne's birthday was there. On the morning of 20th of March Harry came down the stairs from the Gryffindor tower nervously fingering a single red rose. He had worked hard for the present and Fleur was positive that Daphne would love what they had planned, but still a doubt was gnawing its way through Harry's mind. What if Daphne didn't like it?

Other students were watching Harry curiously as he walked through the entrance hall towards the Great Hall, but Harry paid them no notice. He was completely focused on the girl that would be waiting for him inside.

Harry entered the Great Hall, and immediately his eyes seeked the brown haired girl he was looking for sitting in the Slytherin table, her back towards him. As he walked closer, Tracey, who was sitting across Daphne nodded in his direction, and the most amazing blue eyes he knew turned to look at him.

"Happy birthday, Daphne," Harry said, handing the rose to her and leaning down to kiss her tenderly on the cheek.

Daphne looked at the rose and then curiously at Harry. "Thank you, Harry. That was sweet of you."

"Oh, that was only the first part of the present," Harry said. "Meet me after fourth period in the third floor landing, and I'll give you the next part."

"The next part?" Daphne asked with a smile. "Now I'm officially intrigued. How many parts are there?"

"Telling that would ruin the surprise," Harry said. "You'll find out."

"Well, then. I'll be seeing you later, milord."

"And I shall be waiting for you, milady," Harry said with a bow, and walked to the Gryffindor table to eat his breakfast.

- O -

The Charms class felt like it was taking forever, and Harry's attempts to focus on Professor Flitwick's explanation of the finer differences between conjuration as a branch of transfiguration and specialized conjuration charms such as _Aguamenti_ were futile_. _Hermione kept needling him for not paying attention, but Harry's thoughts were firmly on his plans for the night. And Harry had never thought much about the theory behind magic; it was magic, and as long as it worked it was good enough for him.

Finally the lesson ended, and Harry rushed toward the arranged meeting place, hurriedly checking his reflection at the suits of armor he passed, trying to flatten his hair as he went. He sighed in relief when he arrived to the corridor and found it empty. He wasn't late.

Daphne's voice from behind took Harry by surprise. "So what kind of surprise you have that requires me to be in the third floor of Hogwarts?" she asked with a smile on her face, while her disillusionment charm faded away. "Though it was rather convenient, as my last lesson was just around the corner."

"Hi, Daphne," Harry greeted. "It's not so much about what is in here, but where you can get from here," he said, and took her hand. "Come, follow me, it's not a long way from here."

"What's in there?" Daphne asked, following Harry along the corridor. "Is it another secret room only you know about?"

"Not quite, but close," Harry said, and stopped next to a statue of a witch with a prominent hump on her back. "It is a secret, yes, but it's not a room." Harry looked at both directions, and seeing no one tapped the statue with his wand and muttered the passphrase. "It's a passage."

Daphne looked at the dark tunnel that had opened in the wall. "A passage? To where?"

"You'll see. Now come, follow my lead."

The tunnel was dark and musty, and Harry led Daphne along the winding corners in the dim light of his wand.

"This is one long tunnel," Daphne commented. "I don't remember seeing another one this long anywhere in the school. Are we even in the castle anymore?"

"Just a little bit further," Harry said. "And don't worry about the school; I arranged it with Slughorn. You're helping me with an important project and are exempt from the classes. And curfew."

Daphne quirked her eyebrows, although the gesture was lost in the darkness. "Oh? And what is this important project of yours?"

"Your birthday, of course. Right, here we are."

Daphne looked around. There was nothing especially remarkable in this particular stretch of the tunnel that would distinguish it from any other part.

"Where is 'here'?"

"Look at there," Harry said, pointing his wand at the wall. "See how the stone changes color? That's where the boundary of the Hogwarts wards is. And right no we are outside of them."

Harry closed in to Daphne and encircled her into an embrace. "Do you trust me?" he whispered in her ear.

Daphne nodded slightly, enjoying the warmness of the embrace.

"_Activate._"

- O -

Harry and Daphne landed in a paved street on a riverbank, overlooking a busy city. The spring air was a lot warmer than in Scotland, but the light breeze coming from the river was still enough to make Daphne shiver in Harry's arms. As Daphne's eyes adjusted to the change from a dark tunnel to sunny outdoors, she had to keep herself from gasping out loud when she recognized the shape of perhaps the most famous observation tower in the world.

"Paris? You took me to Paris?"

"This is the second part of your present," Harry answered with a nod. "Come, you have an appointment to keep, and we wouldn't want to be late."

Harry led Daphne through the crowded Ilê de la Sorcìere, the island that housed the wizarding, 21st _arrondissement_ of Paris, hidden from muggle view by exorbitant use of magic right next to the Palace of Louvre. It was around four in the afternoon, and a lot of wizards dressed either in robes or stylish muggle-style suits were bustling through the narrow streets heading home after day's work or looking for a small bistro for a glass of wine.

A small bell tinkled as Harry opened the door to a stylish looking boutique looking over the main street of the island. A clerk looked up from behind the desk, and his face lighted up at recognition.

"Ah, Monseigneur Potter! And I believe zis is ze Mademoiselle Greengrass?" he said, standing up and taking Daphne's hand. "Enchanté! You are truly as beautiful as Monseigneur Potter told us; Master Lacroix will be pleased to work for someone with your figure."

Daphne blushed slightly at the praise, and wheeled around to face Harry. "You got Lacroix to make a dress for me?" she asked "How? He can't make more than maybe two dozen a year, and most of them for established customers. No one can cut through his queue, no one!"

"Huh?" Harry asked uncertainly, drawing his hand through his hair. "I didn't know that. Perhaps my friend who helped to arrange this is one of those customers?"

"Monseigneur Potter is right, mademoiselle. Ze Delacour family has been master's loyal customers for generations now. And ze youngest daughter, Gabrielle, has always been talking about ze great Harry Potter. Master was all too happy to help when mademoiselle Fleur approached him in monseigneur Potter's behalf. But we must not keep ze master waiting; he is waiting for you."

Daphne shot Harry a speculative look, but went through a curtain that separated the store from the workshop in the back. The clerk took a look at Harry's robes, and shook his head.

"It will take some time before she has a need for your opinion," he said. "Why don't we look for something more suitable for you to wear meanwhile?"

- O -

Harry was fidgeting in his new suit as he waited for Daphne to come out of the changing room. Daphne had seemed to be exstatic of the present, and Harry trusted Fleur's judgment, but still the end result was unknown, and that was enough to make Harry nervous.

Harry turned on his heels when he heard rustling from the other side of the curtain, and trained his eyes towards the entrance.

"What do you think?" Daphne asked, stepping out and turning around on the soles of her new shoes.

Harry's eyes roamed up and down the purple dress that hugged every curve of Daphne's body before flaring in weightless looking drapes below her knees. The dress was tied at her waist with a sash held together with a silver clasp, the design of which was mirrored in the earrings she was wearing. Her hair was cascading to her shoulders in slight waves, and she wore slight make-up that brought up the features of her face that Harry liked the most. The curve of her eyebrows, the shape of her cheekbone.

"Well?" she asked, a slight uncertainness creeping in her voice.

"Wow," was all harry was able to say. "You look absolutely stunning."

"And you clean up nicely as well," she said, no more confident. "I see you got yourself a new suit, too."

"Oui," the clerk interrupted. "I simply couldn't let him out of our shop dressed like a schoolboy. Not when I knew where you are headed next," he said, slipping Harry a heavy golden key. "It would have ruined our reputation."

"Well, thank you for that," Harry said, offering his hand to Daphne. "Now, are you ready for the next part of your present, Daphne?"

- O -

The portkey given by Lacroix' aide took them to a secluded rooftop terrace in Montmartre. The sun was just about to set behind the horizon, and the last rays of sunlight painted the city below with warm colours.

The maitre d' was waiting for them. "You must be monseigneur Potter and Mademoiselle Greengrass? I can see that master Lacroix hasn't lost his touch, you look absolutely magnificent, my lady" the sharply dressed man said. "Please, follow me, your table is waiting."

Harry and Daphne followed the man through the restaurant. As it was still relatively early in the evening, there weren't many customers sitting on the tables yet, but a pianist was already getting started on one side of the hall. Candles were providing soft light for the tables arranged along large windows that opened towards the city, and delicious aromas were drifting from the kitchen.

Another waiter skillfully opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses while Harry and Daphne sat down.

"Your friend already arranged your menu with our chef," the maitre d' said with a small bow. "The house wishes you a very happy birthday, mademoiselle. Please, enjoy your evening."

Harry raised his glass to Daphne as the man left their table. "Happy birthday!"

Daphne raised her own, and sipped the wine.

"So, a friend of yours?" she asked, arching her eyebrow. "Fleur Delacour, the French Triwizard champion?"

Harry blushed slightly. "Well, I wasn't sure what to get you to make your birthday unforgettable," he said. "So I asked around for advice. Fred and George had their minds deep in the gutter, but they did mention their brother Bill and that he was dating Fleur. Bill helped me with runes in your pendant – he's a curse breaker – and Fleur had contacts in Paris." Harry looked at Daphne. "Hope you don't mind?"

Daphne took another sip from her glass while her other hand went to her neck where the pendant was hanging.

"So every time you were gone from the school you were actually secretly meeting with a French veela?" she asked with a cold tone that caused chills to run through Harry's spine.

She lowered her glass back to the table and smiled. "If I was less sure about myself I might be jealous. But it's actually kind of flattering to know that my man can go to veela for help to make me happy. And this is surely better than whatever those Weasleys could have come up with."

"Merlin, Daphne!" Harry said in relief. "For a moment I thought I was in trouble."

"And don't think for a moment you didn't deserve it, going behind my back like that," Daphne said. "But you can make up for it by asking me for a dance. The pianist sounds great."

- O -

A few of hours and many delicious courses later Harry and Daphne were standing in the balcony, her head resting against his shoulder. The City of Light was giving its best effort to live up to its nickname.

"Thank you so much," Daphne said quietly. "You truly managed to make this an unforgettable night."

"Anything for you," Harry said, and leaned in to kiss her.

They stood in silence admiring the view, until Daphne straightened herself up and offered Harry her hand, smiling mischievously.

"Let's go back to Scotland, and I'll show you what a witch can do on the night of the equinox."

-o0oOo0o-


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

-o0oOo0o-

The next day Harry and Daphne came down from the Room of Requirement just in time to join the others for lunch. They walked to the Gryffindor table under the curious eyes of every student in the school, some of whom had noticed or heard of their absence during the previous afternoon and night. The rumours had only been reinforced when they had missed the breakfast, too.

Harry helped Daphne to the table before sitting himself next to her, and started to pile food on his plate.

"I see you two had a good night," Hermione said from across the table, a smile on her lips.

"Oh yes," Daphne answered. "Harry definitely is the most attentive gentleman a girl could wish for," she said, turning to look at Harry. "And Paris and the gifts were great, too."

Harry resisted choking in the pumpkin juice he was drinking and lowered the goblet on the table, hiding his blushing with a cough. "What can I say? Daphne simply brings out the best of me."

Neville laughed. "Good for you, mate!"

Daphne turned to face the other gryffindor male. "And how about you, Neville? Has Hannah managed to get anything out of you yet?"

Neville turned bright red, and it was Harry's turn to laugh.

"I hate to ruin the mood," Hermione intersected to their enjoyment with more serious tone, casting a privacy charm around the group. "But when you were away yesterday, Dobby came by with the latest news from Charlus." She slipped a slip of parchment over the table to Harry.

Harry took the slip, and read it intently. On it was a list of locations all around Britain, with every major wizarding center included. Harry took another bit from the sausage speared in his fork, and read the note again, chewing carefully.

"This is good news," he said finally, gesturing at the parchment with the sausage. "It means Voldemort doesn't suspect anything. It also means I need to write to the minister, and talk with Dumbledore. He might have strange ideas about how things should be handled, but he is still a supremely competent wizard. And the Order could really help with this."

Daphne nodded. "I agree," she said. "And we need to get him out of the castle anyway. There is truth in the saying that Dumbledore is the only one Voldemort fears, and if the headmaster is here Voldemort just might decide to go somewhere else himself."

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's just that, well, our last meeting didn't end all that well."

"It'll be fine," Hermione assured. "Whatever else he might be, professor Dumbledore is firmly at our side."

Harry turned to look at the head table, where Dumbledore was just leaving towards his office.

"I guess so," he said. "Well, I don't have any classes after the lunch, so I suppose I might as well get this done with. Can you get a message to the DA to meet before dinner? Those that we agreed on?"

- O -

Harry caught up with the Headmaster just as the gargoyle guarding the entrance to his office stepped aside to let him pass.

"Headmaster!" he shouted. "Sir!"

Dumbledore stopped at the threshold of the turning staircase and turned to look at Harry.

"Ah, Harry," he said with a smile. "What do I owe this pleasure for?"

"I need to talk with you, sir," Harry said. "Preferably in private. In your office?"

"Of course, of course. Please, do come in."

Harry and Dumbledore rode the staircase in silence, and the headmaster held the door open for Harry to enter. Harry sat himself down on a comfortable chair in front of the headmaster's desk, and helped himself to one of Dumbledore's lemon drops from the tray laying on the desk.

"What brings you to my office after what surely was an enjoyable day and night out with Miss Greengrass?" Dumbledore asked. "I couldn't fail to notice that you two were absent from the castle yesterday, and weren't present on breakfast either. I do believe it was her birthday, right?"

"We both had a permission from Professor Slughorn," Harry countered the subtle accusation. "And we didn't have any classes this morning, anyway."

Dumbledore hummed noncommittally. "Horace was always gifted in gathering favours from those students he saw potential in," he said. "Perhaps a little too gifted sometimes. But how can I help you?"

"Voldemort will come to try and kill me on Monday," Harry said bluntly. "And when he comes to Hogwarts, I'll be waiting for him and try to take him down. I know where he will be and when, and I'll be ready with a few surprises in my sleeve. The problem is that he is afraid of you. He will launch a series of attacks all over Britain, trying to tie the aurors and you in a fight outside while he himself comes to Hogwarts, sneaking through the supposedly undefeatable protections, kills me and takes the castle and the students hostage."

Harry slid the list over the table to Dumbledore, who was listening with intense attention.

"Amelia knows this, and she has covertly raised the readiness of the aurors. I'll sent the list to her too, but obviously she can't do much about it before the attacks start. Voldemort would know instantly if she posted double guards everywhere. And as you can see there's awful many minor targets on the list; the aurors have to respond to those or we will lose all too many innocent lives and the people will lose their trust in the ministry. And so the aurors will need all the help they can on the major targets."

Harry pointed at the targets on the list. "I have already asked Moody to look after Hogsmeade, that was always an obvious target. And I have tentatively asked Tonks and Remus to keep an eye on Godric's Hollow and raise the alarm when the attack starts. They know how to blend in. That way we get the defense in place even before the aurors have time to respond. And I want you to take the rest of the Order to St. Mungo's, to protect the hospital and help the wounded."

Dumbledore was silent for a long while, peering at Harry over his spectacles.

"And... what about the horcruxes?" he asked carefully.

"Those have been taken care of," Harry waved the question away. "You don't need to worry about them anymore."

Dumbledore's brows raised in surprise. "All of them?" he asked. "Even the one-" he trailed off.

Harry's eyes snapped at Dumbledore, and he caught the headmaster's eyes lingering on his scar before they were averted to the wall behind Harry's shoulder.

"The one what?" Harry pressed. "Are you holding things from me, again?"

Dumbledore shied away from Harry's eyes, and sighed. He let his eyes wander around the office, while Harry stayed quiet and observed his every move, a frown deepening on his face.

Unshed tears were glistening in Dumbledore's blue eyes, as he rose from behind his desk and steadied himself against one of his bookcases. "This is not how I wanted you to find out," he started silently.

"Voldemort made one more Horcrux before you defeated him the night you lost your parents," he continued. "I am not sure if he even knows about it, and he definitely didn't mean it to happen the way it did. The amount of ancient, wild magic in the air on that Halloween was something no one could have anticipated."

"What are you trying to say?" Harry asked, his frown deep.

"You, Harry, you," Dumbledore said, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. "When Voldemort hit you with the killing curse, he left behind more than just a scar. Parseltongue, the link between you two; when his body was destroyed, part of his soul latched on the only living being in vicinity, you."

Dumbledore sank back down on his chair, and hid his face behind his hands. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so very sorry."

"So what are you saying? That I have to die before we can defeat Voldemort?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It is so very unfair that this too should happen to you, especially after you have finally found happiness. But you are correct. As long as his horcruxes survive, Voldemort cannot be killed. And one cannot destroy a horcrux without destroying the vessel," Dumbledore explained. "And that is why I hoped – no, why I knew – that the Power of Love is the only way to defeat Voldemort. It was your mother's sacrifice for what she loved that caused Voldemort's curse to reflect back. I believe that if you –"

"Stop," Harry interrupted. "Just stop."

Harry shook his head as Dumbledore stopped and turned his eyes back at Harry.

"I can't believe you, sir. See, this is exactly your problem. You think something is the way you believe it is, and then you plan and plot how to force the world to conform to your beliefs, never once stopping to ask for a second opinion. But you are not the only one who can plan and plot: I never said we had destroyed all the other horcruxes. We never even got close to two of them, and third, the snake, was always going to have to wait for the final confrontation. No, our plan is to defeat Voldemort despite his horcruxes, and it took the four of us all of two weeks to come up with a plan with enough redundancy that even Daphne is happy with it."

Harry stopped and looked at the headmaster accusingly. "If you had just told me everything when I asked for it, we would never have had to waste our time looking for the horcruxes, and the war might be over already." Harry drew his hand through his hair, and sighed. "I shudder to think what you had planned for me, if this wasn't the way you wanted me to find out."

Harry stood up and walked to the door. "I expect you to go in St. Mungo's on Monday when the attacks start," he said, and left the office, leaving the aged Headmaster alone with his thoughts.

- O -

Harry was fuming when he finally arrived to the seventh floor, where Daphne was waiting in front of the door to the Room of Requirement. She immediately noticed his foul mood.

"What happened?" she asked. "What did Dumbledore say?"

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Not now, Daphne," he said. "I don't yet know myself what to think of that miserable old man, and I really need to focus now. Did you get everyone?"

Daphne nodded. "Everyone we talked of. They think it's a special meeting of the Defence Association."

"Good. Let's get this done with, I'll need to think about the consequences of what Dumbledore told me."

Harry took deep breath, and pushed the large ornate door open. He walked to the front of the room where Hermione and Neville had arranged a low platform, past the assembled students who were eyeing him curiously.

"Welcome," he addressed the crowd once he reached the platform. "As many of you might have already guessed, this meeting is about something a bit different than the regular Defence Association fare."

"I am here to ask for your help. It means putting what you have learned in the Defence Association Battles into real test," he said, observing the demeanour of the students change from idle curiosity to undivided attention, and sometimes even fear. "But before i can go into further detail, I have to ask you to sign a contract to ensure none of you will talk about this outside this room. It is not because I don't trust you –" Harry said raising his hands as there were some exclamations at the demand, "– because I do. What you need to think about, is do you trust everyone else here? I'm not going to force you to trust people you don't know all that well with something that could be dangerous to you all. Not if there are ways to lessen that danger."

"What if we don't sign?" one of the three older Slytherins in attendance asked.

"Then I will stun you and Daphne here will modify your memory of this meeting," Harry said bluntly. "This is serious, guys, I'm not doing this for shit and giggles. I have the approval of the Minister for what I'm doing, and the contract I ask you to sign is also provided by the ministry."

"Signing this won't force you to do anything," Daphne piped in. "It is only to protect us all."

There were hesitantly agreeing nods in the crowd, but everyone was looking for someone to make the move.

"I will sign first," Neville said, and stepped forward. "Give me that contract."

Harry gestured at a table next to Hermione, and handed Neville a quill. As Neville leaned over the table to sign, Hannah followed his lead. "I'll do it after Neville."

Susan followed soon after Hannah, and then in rapid succession everyone in the room was queuing to to sign.

"Great," Harry said as the last name was on the parchment. "Now that the unpleasant part is over, I can explain what the plan is."

"Earlier this year we – that is, Daphne, Hermione, Neville and I – discovered a death eater plot to infiltrate Hogwarts and take the castle and the students hostage. Working carefully we have managed to turn the surprise attack into an ambush of our own without Voldemort knowing. We intend to stop the attack, and take down Voldemort for good. But we cannot do this alone."

- O -

Harry watched as the members of the Defence Association filed out of the Room of Requirement, still stunned by the audacity of Harry's plan and the length of preparation he and went through to get to this point. But amidst the disbelief looks of grim determination were appearing. The others too wanted this war over with, and were willing to rise to the challenge despite the risks involved.

Daphne tapped him on the shoulder, awakening him from his thoughts.

"It went well, didn't it?" Harry asked. "They will fight for us?"

"They will," Daphne answered. "We chose them for that, and you really are an inspiring leader when you want to be. I'd like to take credit on that, but you certainly have found your own way."

Harry circled his hand around her and kissed her cheek. "But without you I wouldn't have found it this soon, if ever. There's no way I'd be here today without you. And just look at that group: there's no way those Slytherins would follow me if you hadn't taken the first step."

"I don't know. Not all Slytherins are stupid enough to not to see where there is potential for advancing their own station. I did, after all."

"But you aren't just an average girl," Harry said with a smile.

There was a silence with both Harry and Daphne just enjoying the peace and the warmth of closeness. Daphne sighed, reluctant to disturb the moment.

"You seemed upset after your meeting with Dumbledore," she said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry squeezed Daphne closer to his side. "It was just one more thing Dumbledore has kept from me," he said. "Apparently when Voldemort gave me this scar, parseltongue wasn't the only thing he left behind."

Daphne forced Harry away, looking at him with wide eyes. "No, he didn't!"

"Yeah, Dumbledore think my scar is a horcrux. That I am a horcrux. And really it does make sense in light of some other things, too."

"And did Dumbledore have a plan to deal with that?"

"No, not really. He thinks I have to die for Voldemort to become mortal. He hopes my death would protect others from him the same way my mother's death protected me."

"Not going to happen," Daphne said, growling. "I've put too much effort into you just to let you go like that."

Harry forced a small smile on his lips. "That's about what I said to Dumbledore, too," he said. "The only thing I really wonder, though, is how much this knowledge affected Dumbledore's other plans. I can't help but think that the reason I wasn't told anything or helped to prepare was that I was always meant to die like a martyr in the end. He's always been talking about how he just wanted me to be happy, to have a chance to be a child."

Daphne hugged Harry tightly. "That won't matter anymore. We don't need Dumbledore. And you are not going to die; even if our plan to deal with Voldemort won't work, we'll just have to kill him again so many times he won't even bother with resurrecting himself anymore."

"Thanks," Harry said, hugging Daphne back. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me neither. Let's go down to the kitchen and get something to eat. We can come back here for the night, I could do with a repeat of yesterday."

Harry smiled wickedly. "I can work with that," he said, leading Daphne towards the door.

The moment he stepped into the corridor time seemed to freeze for Harry. Call it magical precognition or a reflex honed with hours of practice, but a movement in the shadows caught his attention in the corner of his eye. Harry was moving already before the spark of magic erupted from the wand of the assailant, diving for cover taking Daphne down with him while his wand left the holster on his belt with a fluid motion. He barely registered Daphne's shriek of surprise when his magic responded to the threat, a stunner leaving his wand towards the enemy before he hit the ground, his aim straight and true.

The dull brown glow of what he absently recognized as an explosive curse mixed with the bright red of his stunner, and illuminated the hallway with flickering lights, triggering instant recognition as Harry saw the face of his attacker. Feeling of betrayal didn't have time to gain purchase before pain erupted in Harry's shoulder as he hit the stone floor, hard. The pain didn't last long either before it was chased away by a warm wave of pressure that swept over him, throwing his body across the the corridor amidst sharp fragments of the stone wall blown apart by the curse, when he felt the most curious feeling of magic leaving his body.

Harry's ears were ringing, his whole body ached, and his eyes were blurry, He tried to grope the floor for his glasses, but pain in his arms forced him to stop before he found anything. Suddenly he was forced around, and the worried face of Daphne filled his vision.

"...rry!"

Her mouth was moving, but Harry couldn't quite make out what she was saying.

"Harry!" she repeated. "Tell me you're alright!"

Harry groaned. He was hurting all over, and was feeling more tired than he could remember. But there was only one thing in his mind.

"Zabini," he said weakly. "Daphne... Voldemort... must not... know."

- O -

Harry was staring at the grey vaults above him. Light was flooding in from the large windows facing West, and he watched as the shadows of the window framing slowly creeped upwards on the opposing wall of the infirmary.

_It's been a long time since the last time I was here,_ Harry mused. _I had already forgotten just how boring this place was._

He had woken up with sobbing Daphne sitting next to him, clutching the protective necklace Harry had given her. She had been besides herself at the thought of Harry taking the hit for her, but had also had the presence of mind to take care of the traitorous Zabini. Her method was cold and calculating and not legal in the least, but Harry didn't really have nothing against it. In fact he had already worked it into his own plans, and in the end Blaise had actually solved some problems in them. Not that Harry would ever thank him for that.

Creaking of the heavy door of the hospital wing woke Harry from his introspection. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table and looked at the visitor.

"Ron," he said, watching as the tall red-headed boy walked awkwardly closer.

"Hi, Harry," he said.

The two once best friends looked at each other in silence.

"I heard you were in the infirmary," Ron finally said, breaking the silence. "So I came to see you."

"Yeah," Harry replied, not knowing where the conversation was going.

"It should have been me," Ron blurted. "It should have been me who took you here."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, confused by the statement.

"No, that came out all wrong. I mean, I should have been there with you. I shouldn't have had to been told you are here. Hell, maybe I'd have stumbled in front of that spell and you could have taken down the attacker."

"It's all right, Ron. Daphne and I can handle this."

A shadow passed in front of Ron's face at the mention of Daphne. "But the bastard who did this to you wasn't caught."

_Yes, he was,_ Harry thought. _He's just more useful outside the ministry holding cells._

"Don't worry about it," he said out loud. "Really, it's all right."

Ron frowned, but didn't say anything.

"Why did you come here, Ron?" Harry asked.

Ron was jerked out of his thoughts. "I want in," he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Ron sighed. "I might not have been the best of friends for the past year or so," he said, "– but I know you. You are planning something, I could see it on their faces when they came down for dinner yesterday. And I want in."

Harry cursed inwardly. It was damn good they had got Zabini when they did, even if it was purely by accident. If Ron could see through them so easily, so could have Blaise.

"Why now, though?" Harry asked. "You haven't even been in the DA."

"I know. I said I haven't been a good friend, right? But what happened before Christmas kind of forced me to open my eyes."

Ron fidgeted with his hands. "Nothing quite shows that quidditch isn't all there is to life like having your teammate killed, right?" he said, and barked a nervous laugh.

Harry regarded the red-head carefully.

"This time it'll be different, you know?" he asked. "This time I won't be just stumbling mindlessly into an adventure, hoping to survive by luck and miracle. This time I have a plan and I am prepared for what is coming."

Harry locked his eyes with Ron's, dead serious. "What you need to ask yourself is are _you_ prepared?"

"Merlin, Harry! You are scary when you get like that," Ron said.

"But are you?" Harry repeated. "I won't put people in harms way without knowing then can handle it. This is no game, Ron."

Ron turned his head away. "I guess I am," he said. "I asked Bill to teach me some spells during Christmas holidays, and I've been practicing on my own."

He looked back at Harry. "I've wanted to join the DA again, I just didn't know who to ask. You and Neville have your own teams, and seemed to be happy with them. And I haven't exactly made many friends outside of Gryffindor."

Harry looked Ron evaluating, and smiled. "Well, it's good to have you back on board, mate."

Ron released his breath in relief. "I won't let you down, I promise."

- O -

Dumbledore sat behind his table in the Headmaster's office, contemplating the young man laying in the hospital wing. He knew the assault hadn't went the way Miss Greengrass had described it; there were too much residual magic lingering in the wrecked hallway for it to have been a simple ambush, and there was also the fact that the attacker hadn't stayed to finish what he or she had started. But his latest meeting with Harry had finally driven in the point Harry had been trying to make since the last summer: he was not the only one with plans, and that maybe he had been in the lead for too long already.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at his wand that was laying in front of him, representing in the eyes of the public his greatest triumphs, but for him it was a reminder of his greatest fears and failures. An ancient, knobbly length of elder with long and bloody history. A history he had been hoping would end with him. A history he was afraid would keep on going if he ever took it up in anger.

But things had changed. Dumbledore looked at the blackened husk of his hand, and the ring adorning his long fingers. He could feel the decay creeping up towards his heart, and even with both Severus and Horace brewing potions and elixirs for him he knew he wouldn't be the headmaster anymore when the new students would enter Hogwarts after summer.

Dumbledore looked at Fawkes, who stared back from his perch, the bird's face displaying no human emotion.

"Do you think I have made the right decisions?" he asked the phoenix who had been with him through most of his life.

Fawkes tilted his head, and trilled a couple of notes that were impossible to decipher, but lifted Dumbledore's spirits nonetheless. Even when he knew it was mostly just a magical effect of the bird.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and when he opened them again a moment later, there was a new spark in them.

"Thank you, my friend," he said. "I needed that. Now do you think you could deliver a message to the Order? It seems like there will be work for us soon."

Fawkes trilled another note, and disappeared in a brilliant flash of fire.

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: As you might have noticed, this is the second new chapter in two days. And as some of you might have guessed, it means I have finally reached the point where I hoped to be a few months ago. I should have the last chapter polished in time for tomorrow, and after that there's only the epilogue that has been more or less ready almost from the beginning.

Once again many thanks for all the reviews you have left, and for the interest you have showed for my story.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

-o0oOo0o-

Draco Malfoy was pacing back and forth wondering whether he would live to see tomorrow or not. _A Malfoy bows to no one_, his father had told him. _The Malfoy blood is as old as Magic itself, _he had said,_ and that is why it is better than any other. Remember it, my son, and act accordingly._

And Draco remembered. And Draco had acted. But now his father was dead, the Malfoy name trampled into the mud and the Malfoy fortune all but gone. Now he himself was trapped between two half-bloods, his hands tied by a web of threats, lies and oaths. Worst of all, as much as he hated to admit it, both of them were more powerful than him in every meaningful way.

Draco jumped in fright as the door of the classroom he was hiding in opened.

"Ah, there you are," Harry said, closing the door behind him. "You were surprisingly hard to find today. How did you find this place, anyway?"

Draco glared at Harry. No one should have known where he was. He was about to do something extremely dangerous, didn't he deserve a chance to fret in private?

"Well, are you ready to earn your freedom?" Harry asked, not affected by Draco's glare. "You do remember your role tonight?"

"Yes I do," Draco snapped. "How could I not? It's not something you forget easily: _oh, I almost forgot I was about to betray the Dark Lord, how careless of me_. You still haven't told how I'm supposed to get away from this alive?"

"Good that you asked," Harry replied evenly. "That's actually why I wanted to see you."

Harry took an old sock and a potion vial from his pocket, and gave them to Draco. "That's a portkey and a vial of polyjuice potion," he explained. "There's a broomstick waiting for you in the Room of Requirement. You'll have three seconds to get out of the clearing after Voldemort enters; that's when I'll blow the room. Make those seconds count. After you get out of the castle with the broomstick, use the portkey. The activation phrase is _mother_. Narcissa should be waiting for you where it lands, she will take you out of the country."

"Out of the country?" Draco asked, stunned. "But everything I know is here in Britain!"

"Well, you'll have to learn new things then, don't you? There is no future for you here. There is no future for the Malfoy family. Besides, you will already be dead; your body will be found in one of the unused classrooms later today, this one might do nicely. Unfortunately they will never catch the killer, but as Blaise Zabini will the only student unaccounted for, he will be the obvious suspect. Especially after the forensics will show that it was his wand that killed you."

"But, but..." Draco stammered.

"Your mother, on the other hand –" Harry continued, "will die when the leaderless Death Eaters _accidentally_ burn down the Malfoy Manor, where they were hiding. It'll be a tragedy, of course, and her body will never be found to be buried. But then again everyone knows that your father was a death eater and that she really had no other choice."

Harry watched Draco wordlessly open and close his mouth. "It would be very unwise to try to come back with your old name," Harry continued. "It would be exceedingly awkward trying to explain how why there is a grave with your name on it if you are still alive. And make no mistake, you won't be the hero of this story. Your role will be that of an evil bastard who tried to get half of Hogwarts killed, but who was too incompetent to make it happen: the official explanation will be that you were stupid enough to not to notice me and my friends hiding around the cabinet. You should really be happy that I'll help you by faking your death, otherwise both the Ministry and the remaining supporters of Voldemort would want to see you dead."

"Well, I have to go now, I have other things to attend to before the attack. Just remember: three seconds, polyjuice, broom, _mother_. Got it? Good."

Harry stepped out of the room, leaving Draco clutching an old sock and a potions vial full of thick brown concoction.

- O -

Amelia Bones was sitting in her office, tapping her wand nervously on her desk. She had donned her old auror robes, where she had added the the stripes of the Commander in Chief that came with the position as the minister. Hanging on a wall opposite to her was a map that showed all alerts issued for the DMLE. For the moment it was empty, but any moment now it would light up like a Christmas tree when Voldemort's assault began.

The director of the DMLE, Rufus Scrimgeour and the current Head Auror, John Dawlish were both present; the former pacing nervously in front of the minister's desk.

"Are you going to tell us what kind of information you have for having us on alert like this?" the large man with lion-like looks asked, stopping abruptly.

Amelia looked at her second in command, glanced at the map, and then the clock. Nothing was happening yet.

"I might as well," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Potter has hijacked Voldemort's plan to attack Hogwarts, and is going to lay an ambush for him. At the same time Voldemort will launch massive attacks all over the country to draw our forces out. We need to deal with that while Harry deals with Voldemort."

Amelia enjoyed the looks of surprise on her subordinates' face, although the only outward show of emotion was a slight frown when Dawlish winced at the Dark Lord's name.

"If things go according to plan, the war will be over today."

"Potter?" Scrimgeour asked. "But Potter already claimed that the war was over, and..." he paused mid sentence.

"Potter did that on purpose?" he asked, and looked accusingly at Amelia. "And you knew all along?"

"Yes. As to why I didn't tell you, well, you didn't need to know. We know there's someone inside the department who's feeding information to the other side, and if there were rumours of big operations it could have compromised everything."

Amelia smiled weakly at the two men. "And it was hard enough for me to accept that Potter is fighting this war for us," she said. "I can't imagine what your reaction would have been."

Scrimgeour frowned, the full implications only now sinking in.

"So that's our role? Watching from the side and cleaning up whatever mess Potter makes?"

Amelia sighed. She knew Rufus had planned a political career on being the director who took down Voldemort, and losing claim to that to Harry couldn't be easy for him to accept.

- O -

"Alright, guys, this is it," Harry said, marching into the Room of Requirement. "Time to get ready. Remember what we talked on Friday: no one gets hurt. Stay hidden, stay silent and protect your ears, and when the trap is sprung stay on offensive until every one of them is down. We must not let Voldemort gain initiative, understood?"

Harry looked around and saw everyone nodding in agreement.

"I want ten wands trained on Voldemort from the beginning, and only Voldemort. The rest will first take care of the other death eaters. Do I have volunteers?"

Harry looked with satisfaction as ten wands were quickly raised. He smirked at Neville who kept his down; he knew Neville was counting on Bellatrix to come, and didn't want to miss an opportunity to curse her.

"Great! And remember, non-lethal only. We need to get Voldemort alive, or he will simply make himself a new body like before. So bone breakers, bludgeoning spells, blinding curses, fire… I don't care how badly he is hurt as long as he still breaths."

"And if everything else fails, you have your brooms. Fly out of the Room as fast as possible, and alert everyone in the castle. And take care of your friends. No one gets left behind."

Harry took a more relaxed stance and continued with a softer voice. "If everything goes to plan none of this is needed. The traps we have in place should be enough to defeat them all. But if there is one thing I have learned from Voldemort it's that you should never underestimate your opponent. He is one slippery bastard."

"That's it," he said, clapping his hands. "Let's take our positions. Good luck!"

- O -

Number 42 Diagon Alley was situated in the outer side of the only bend in the busy street that housed the commercial centre of Wizarding Britain. This premium piece of real estate had been in the possession of the Black family since time immemorial, and the current building that housed the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes store was built in the mid-nineteenth century.

The corner of the building jotted into the alley in a strange angle, making sure that whatever business resided in the building would be visible to every part of the Alley. It also meant that the sitting room situated in the same corner of the third floor apartment had a commanding view over the whole street.

In this sitting room the proprietors of the shop below were preparing for the attack that would begin any moment now.

"Oi, Fred! How many of those vials did we get?" George asked loudly, tinkering with a strange contraption built mainly of brass which shone in the sunlight flooding through the large windows.

"Potage had just shy of three hundred on stock. Poor man almost had a stroke when I bought them all. Pritchard would have had more, but they were wrong size," Fred answered, walking in arms full of longish boxes. "He stocks the German fifteen millimeter vials, when we need half-inch ones."

"Damn. Well, that'll have to do. What flavours do you have there?"

"Mostly Boomjuice, but there's three magazines of assorted fun stuff, including the Fluffy Bunny potion."

The contraption George was tinkering with was their latest invention, the Weasley Wheezer. It was a seven barreled ("one for each of us," the twins had explained when they had had Bill over to help with the enchanting), hand crank operated rotary gun. The weapon used runic array based banishing charms to propel standard fifty caliber potions vials towards unsuspecting enemies up to one hundred and fifty yards away with a sustainable rate of fire of nearly one hundred rounds per minute. Combined with Fred and George's twisted genius with potions and the strategic position of their sitting room, the Wheezer could ruin the day of anyone staying anywhere in the Alley. In short, it was going to be an interesting experience for the Death Eaters.

- O -

Alastor Moody was sitting in the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade, his back against the wall in the far end of the bar, keeping an eye on the patrons while his left hand was toying with a tumbler of whiskey; his right hand never wandered far from his waist where his wand was in an easy access holster.

When Harry Potter had approached him through Nymphadora Tonks a week ago, Moody had been skeptical. What could a sixteen year old lad have to offer for him? But inquiries made through his old contacts in the ministry had piqued his interest: things just didn't add up when it came to the young Potter, and there were rumours of unbelievable deeds attributed to him circulating among the aurors. Moody knew there had to be something different going on at the Nott home before Christmas; he had personally studied the wards around that old house twenty years earlier, and the aurors couldn't possibly have broken through them with the ease it was reported.

Moody's spinning eye fixed itself on the door shortly before it opened. Three men dressed in heavy cloaks walked in, their grizzled faces shadowed by the large hats they wore. Their alert eyes took in every detail of the pub before the men marched towards Moody at the bar.

The barman saw their approach, and laid down three glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey next to where Moody was sitting. The apparent leader of the men grunted his thanks, and poured a healthy amount of the amber liquid in the glasses. He and his comrades took long sips, and sat down facing Moody, who was carefully taking in their every move.

The leader took his time enjoying the taste of the beverage, before he faced Moody's eyes head on.

"So, what's the plan, Alastor?"

Moody barked a laugh. "What makes you think I have a plan? Can't a man just ask his friends for a drink without ulterior motives?"

The man snorted and sipped his drink. "It's been over fifty years since we fought Grindelwald's men in France, Alastor," he said. "And this is the first time you are buying us drinks. Don't confuse us with the snot-nosed kids wearing the uniform these days."

Moody laughed again. "Too true," he replied. "Fudge gutted the force worse than Grindelwald and Voldemort combined. And you're right, I do have a plan."

Moody whipped out his wand and weaved a series of privacy spells over the four of them, before stowing it away once again.

"I have reliable information that Voldemort is planning a massive assault today. He plans to take the country hostage. And Hogsmeade is one of his targets."

"What makes you think this information is something we would be interested in?"

"Please, I'm not a rookie either," Moody said. "The only reason you're not fighting is that you don't know where the fight is. Every ex-auror is the same, at least the good ones."

The man hummed agreeably, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "So the plan is to sit here until the attack begins, and then bag some death eaters?" he asked. "I believe you have a deal."

- O -

Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin were sitting in a café in Godric's Hollow, waiting for the attack to begin. Their ability to blend in with the muggle population had got them the assignment to watch out over one of the largest mixed communities of the country, and the scene of Voldemort's downfall fifteen years earlier.

Tonks, who was sporting normal looking shoulder length brown hair was staring into her cup of coffee, avoiding the eyes of the werewolf sitting across the table.

"Tonks, what's wrong?" Remus asked, worry clear in his voice.

Tonks sighed. "It's —" she started, and looked up to Remus. "Remus, I think I'm pregnant."

Remus' eyes widened. "What?"

"I think I'm pregnant, Remus," she said. "And you are the father."

"What... How?" Remus spluttered, before he grasped the meaning of the words.

His stupor was quickly broken by a look of fear. "Tonks!" he exclaimed. "You shouldn't be here! What if something happens?"

Tonks' eyes flashed black and a strand of her hair turned an angry shade of red.

"Now listen here, governor!" she growled. "Just because you put your sprog in me doesn't mean you get any say on what I can or cannot do; don't forget that I'm the auror in this operation, while you're just a civilian. If there's going to be any ordering around, it will be me ordering you!"

"But..."

"No buts. I'm not even your wife, for Morgana's sake! How do you expect to have any authority over me?"

- O -

Dumbledore was sitting in his office, staring intently at the fire that was burning in his fireplace. Snape was standing next to the wall near the door, his face impassive mask, while the other members of the Order of Phoenix were sitting in chairs around the desk.

"Could you tell us why you called us together?" Elphias Doge asked. "Didn't Mr. Potter say in the Prophet that the war was as good as over?"

"I am afraid that the article was less than accurate," Dumbledore answered. "I believe Tom will be making his biggest move thus far today."

Snape's face turned into a sneer. "I told you that," he spat. "But did you listen? Potter inherits a title, and immediately he is more arrogant than ever, and thinks he knows everything."

Dumbledore turned his head at the Potions Master and Defence Professor, and gave him a look that showed just how old and tired the Headmaster truly was. "Severus, please refrain from from making such comments," he said. "I know what Tom is planning based solely on what Harry told me earlier. That article was merely a way of ensuring Tom followed the plan Harry wanted him to follow."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I have failed Mr. Potter earlier by presuming this was my war to lead, a failure Mr. Potter has seen fit to explain to me. I feel deeply ashamed that it needed to be explained in the first place."

Dumbledore raised his gaze to the gathered members of the Order, a new spark igniting in his eyes.

"The Order of Phoenix is no longer the vanguard against the forces of darkness," he declared. "That place has been taken by others. Today our duty is to help the younger generation, when they take the steps to form our world in their image."

"What do you mean by that?" Doge asked. "Of course we will be in the front. We've always been."

"Not today, actually not for the past year, either," Dumbledore explained. "Young Harry has been leading the fight, something I understood only recently. Our part in this fight is to protect those who cannot defend themselves, while those younger than us will take the fight to the enemy."

"So what will we do? Where will we go?"

Before Dumbledore had time to respond, a former headmistress of Hogwarts Dilys Derwent appeared in her portrait, looking distressed. "Albus!" she exclaimed. "So good you are here. St. Mungo's is under attack! Death Eaters are attacking everyone in sight!"

Dumbledore rose to his feet. "There is your answer. We leave immediately," he said. "Minerva, I'll leave the castle in your capable hands."

- O -

"Honey!" Michael Thorn shouted, as he rushed to the closet where he kept his uniform. He swore as he fumbled with the door and dropped his wand clattering on the floor. "I need to go! It's some kind of an emergency!"

Michael had graduated from the auror program only two weeks ago, and despite the rushed nature of the wartime graduation, the ceremony had been one of the proudest moments of his life. The training had been hard and more than once he had felt out of his depth, but he had persevered, and got the dream job he had been rejected from five years ago when he had left Hogwarts.

When he and his squad had received the orders to stay on heightened alert for this day Michael had thought nothing of it. They were the junior squad in the force, and it was only natural they would get the short end of the stick. He only expected to get called in if someone more senior got injured in the field, or just wanted to leave for a longer holiday with their family before Easter. But now that his badge had started to flash and beep telling him he had five minutes to get to the Headquarters, he started to curse his rotten luck.

"What is it?" his wife of only six months, Rosalie Thorn neé Summerby asked from the door. He knew she had been preparing dinner, a dinner he would almost certainly miss.

"It's my job. You knew this was possible, right honey?" Michael said, taking her hand and kissing her on the lips. "I really need to go. Keep safe."

"You too, Michael," she said, holding his hand tightly. "Don't try to be a hero, and come back home safely."

"Don't worry, Rosie," Michael assured his wife. "We are the best, and we aren't going to leave our comrades behind."

He wriggled his hand out of her grasp, and activated the portkey in his badge.

At Auror Headquarters chaos reigned. All of the fireplaces in the response room were burning green as worried citizens were calling in for help, and there were more aurors coming and going than Michael remembered ever seeing.

"Clear the pad," someone said, grabbing Michael's arm and yanking him away from where he had arrived. "We have everyone coming in, move your arse!"

Michael started moving, his brain still working on trying to understand what was going on.

"Mike!" a familiar voice shouted from the crowd.

Michael's squad leader Charlie Puckle was waving for him from one corner, where he was holding a quick briefing with the other squad members. Charlie wasn't much older than Michael, but he had went through the more extensive training program before Amelia had become the minister, and as such had got himself his own squad even without much experience.

"What's going on?" Michael asked when he managed to find his way through the busy room to his squad.

"You-Know-Who is making his big move," Charlie said with a grim face. "There's attacks all over the country, and the director has called everyone in. Good thing, too; it seems he and the minister are seriously worried about this attack," he said, nodding with his chin.

Michael's gaze followed the motion towards the isolated area over the main floor where Rufus Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones were standing over a map barking orders. The minister was dressed in full combat robes that made sure no one forgot where she had started her career.

"As soon as Baker squad arrives, we'll leave for Hogsmeade," Charlie continued. "The rapid response team is there already, but they report that there's giants, and they can't hold much longer."

Michael's face lost colour as he heard that. Giants were one of the toughest foes one could imagine: they were almost impervious to spells, and had enough intelligence to work against an enemy instead of simply bashing around mindlessly.

"That's right," the Head Auror John Dawlish said, arriving with a length of rope. "Our men count on you to get them out of trouble."

"You leave in twenty seconds," he said, handing the rope. "The latest news is that there's a group of civilians fighting with us, so watch out who you curse. Don't hit the friendlies!"

Michael adjusted his hold of his wand, and grabbed the rope. This would be his first experience with live fire, and he suddenly realized that there was no way he was ready for it.

- O -

Bellatrix Lestrange was cackling insanely as she threw spell after spell at the people in the lobby of the St Mungo's hospital. Some had tried to fight to back, but there were few who had what it took to stand against the most feared witch in Voldemort's forces.

Bellatrix' wand danced its deadly dance with a flourish which betrayed the fact that she was enjoying herself immensely. A turquoise spell shot from the wand and impacted with the sole auror still standing of the squad assigned to guard the wizarding hospital, and he fell down to the floor with a scream of anguish, all tendons from his legs snapped.

"Did the poor auror hurt himself?" Bellatrix taunted as the man tried to reach for his wand that had fallen to the floor. "Let Bella help you forget the pain. Crucio!"

Angry red bolt of magic sped towards the helpless auror who looked at it eyes wide with terror. Only a fraction of a second before it hit him a chair leaped into movement from the wall and intersected the spell, disintegrating in the collision.

The cry of a phoenix filled the lobby as Bellatrix turned to look at who had dared to come between her and her target.

"Dumbledore!" she screeched, as she saw the ancient headmaster standing to the side dressed in his colourful robes. She watched the tip of his wand tracing small circles in the air. All the furniture in the room was assembling around him ready to respond to the commands of his magic.

"Indeed, Miss Black," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to lower your wand so that we can end this madness without further bloodshed."

"Never!" Bellatrix shouted and raised her wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

Dumbledore had ordered one of the chairs to block the spell the moment Bellatrix moved her arm, and was commanding a bench and a newspaper stand to a counterattack, when someone appeared straight between the two combatants with a small pop. Snape had barely enough time to recognize the spell coming at him when the strings of life were cut from his body and he slumped to the floor, dead.

There was a pause in the fighting as both opponents looked at the man who had so suddenly entered and left the fight. The furniture was rocking in place uncertainly as the will keeping them in motion faltered.

Bellatrix was quicker of the two to react. "I killed the traitor!" she shouted with a childish glee and an insane giggle. "I killed the traitor! What do you say to that, old man? He never knew how to keep that beaky nose of his out of other people's business, now did he?"

Dumbledore looked at the lifeless body of his most trusted confidant. He raised his eyes to stare at Bellatrix, his face thunderous. Magic gathered around him causing his long hair to float and robes to billow; the furniture around him stood at a new alertness, the newspaper stand growing sharp horns while the papers itself reconfigured themselves as wings.

"You really shouldn't have done that," the Headmaster said grimly, looking every bit the man of his reputation as the bench beside him burst spontaneously in flames. "Now I am forced to _end_ you."

"Eep!" was all Bellatrix had time to say before she apparated out of the way of the charging furniture.

- O -

Damien Greengrass stood at the the window of his study. His wards had alerted him of an attack, but as he looked out, he couldn't see but two men dressed in black throwing spells at the invisible barrier that protected his home and family.

He drummed his fingers at the windowsill. Daphne and Harry had told him to be ready in case someone attacked. They suspected such attack might be only a diversion in order to create mayhem and prevent the aurors from making concentrated effort in countering the attacks. And from the looks of it they had been right. Even if he hadn't had the wards, the wizards outside didn't seem to be too much of a threat.

Damien sighed. He really didn't think it was his job to take the fight to the enemy, but he couldn't just let the death eaters leave to terrorize someone who wasn't lucky enough to be protected as well as he was. Besides, after he had deciphered the book Harry had given him for Christmas he had found some fascinatingly disturbing ideas for protection he really wanted to try.

Turning away from the window, Damien walked to the fireplace on the opposite wall. He gently picked up a delicate but extremely sharp silver dagger laying on the mantlepiece and after a short hesitation sliced on his left thumb just enough to draw blood. He smeared the blood on a set of runes carved in the mantlepiece, watching as it sank into the stone. The whole building seemed to hum with magic and the runes started to glow slightly, until the tension suddenly discharged in blindingly bright flash of purple light and a dry sound of a thunderclap.

Peace and quiet returned, the wards no longer crying under attack. Damien looked up at a portrait of a Greengrass long passed, who only nodded in silent approval.

- O -

"This is it, guys," Fred said to George and Angelina as a horde of wizards, witches, hags, vampires and other residents of the Knockturn Alley ran out of their shady street to the Diagon Alley, led by a small group of Death Eaters.

"The Big One," George added, releasing the safety switch of the Wheezer, and the first potion vial dropped from the magazine into the weapon.

"The one we've all been waiting for," Angelina finished the familiar words with a nervous smile. "Can't you two be serious even on a moment like this?" she asked.

"When it's a question of whether you should laugh or cry, we always choose laughing," Fred answered, and took a firm hold of the crank of the Wheezer and heaved the weapon into motion.

Down in the Alley, the mob was already starting to fan out from the entrance of Knockturn when the first burst of potion vials hit the cobblestones, exploding at the impact. Shockwaves and flying shrapnel forced the advancing force to cover, allowing the guarding aurors who had been in serious trouble time to regroup and send their injured to safety.

- O -

Harry watched with growing anxiety as more and more death eaters were coming through the cabinet. He would never have guessed Voldemort would bring this many people with him. And they had trolls! Voldemort clearly wasn't about to underestimate Harry and the DA after the setback in Hogsmeade.

The trolls were growling and sniffing around, shaking their huge clubs in threatening manner.

"Is little Draco-poo scared of big bad trolls?" Bellatrix mocked when Draco slowly inched away and towards the safety of cover. "You need to stomach much uglier things than these if you ever want to properly serve the Dark Lord."

Bellatrix drew her wand and fired a stinging hex at one of the trolls, causing it to roar in anger and thrash against the chains that kept it still. Bellatrix just laughed at Draco's scared face and the attempts of the other death eaters to hold the massive beasts still.

"Let it go, Bella," Rodolphus Lestrange said to his wife, and stopped her hand before she had time to fire more spells. "The little shit is no better than his father. Malfoys have never been any use besides their money," he continued, and sneered at Draco. "And you don't have much left, now do you?"

Before Draco had time to decide how to answer to the taunts, he was distracted by a noise from above.

Piercing pain lanced through Harry's scar. With an audible gasp Harry doubled over and the triggers slipped from his hands and clattered on the platform he was crouching on.

Voldemort, who had just stepped through the cabinet, trained his eyes towards the sound. The sight of Draco diving behind a heavy set of drawers caused his eyes to widen in realisation.

"It's a trap!" he bellowed, the yew and phoenix feather wand slicing through air, his magic rushing forwards to protect him.

Fighting through the pain Harry reached for the first trigger, his wand having never been in any danger of slipping from his hands despite the throbbing in his forehead. With a trembling hand he brought his wand at the trigger, and tapped.

Everywhere in the clearing devices hidden within the various items came to life, the magic loaded in them springing into action. All around the Death Eaters mountains of junk exploded towards them filled with potions and traps. Few were fast enough to shield themselves with magic while some were lucky enough to be protected by the bulk of the lumbering beasts they had with them. But the relief was short-lived as Harry reached for the other trigger.

Up in the owlery owls were shaken awake from their sleep as the whole castle shook, and a thundering rumble of an explosion echoed around the Hogwarts valley.

- O -

Narcissa Malfoy was hurrying her way through Malfoy manor. She was coming up from the basement where Borkin had been keeping his shadier merchandise ever since Bones became the minister, and where the Dark Lord had used the vanishing cabinet to go to Hogwarts with her sister and a frightening number of other Death Eaters. And they had trolls! Narcissa clutched her wand tighter, anxious about her son. The Dark Lord was strong, and it didn't seem likely that Potter could defeat him, but she still had to keep her end of the deal, even if it wasn't for the oath she had taken. No matter what happened, people would come for her and her son: if the Dark Lord won they would be traitors, if he didn't, they would be death eaters.

Narcissa arrived to the great ballroom where Voldemort had been holding court for nearly two years now, and immediately noticed the huge snake coiled in front of the fireplace. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she saw the Persian carpet under the snake, stained with blood and other things she didn't even want to consider. It was yet another example of the boorishness of the Dark Lord: that carpet was given by Sultan Suleiman to one of the Malfoy ancestors as a gift for his part in negotiating the Franco-Ottoman alliance in the 16th century. It was said to be part of the legendary magical treasure of the princess Badroulbadour. And now it was lowered to being a warmer for a bloody pet.

Shaking her head Narcissa walked past the ballroom and up towards her personal quarters.

- O -

Michael Thorn stopped at the corner of a building in Hogsmeade to look up, as the sound of a distant thunder rolled from the direction of the Hogwarts castle. There was not a cloud in sight, and the sun was slowly setting towards the horizon, painting the sky in golden hues.

He was just about to ask what the sound was, when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him down and away from the corner, which exploded in splinters by invisible force only a fraction of a second later. From the ground he looked in horror as the most scarred man he had ever seen cursed a masked man through the new hole in the wall, before turning to look at him.

"Do you want to live?" the man asked. "Then don't go bloody standing around in the battlefield. Constant vigilance!"

Michael scampered up again, while the man he now noticed had a peg leg and artificial eye started to bark commands to the aurors around.

"Don't they teach you maggots anything in the academy anymore? Are you trying to bring shame to the aurors? Those giants are strong, but they're stupid. Bring them down, and they don't know how to get back up real fast. Then you can take'em out real easy."

- O -

Back in Diagon Alley, the Wheezer was laying waste to the dark army that was trying to fight their way towards the Gringotts bank. Squads of aurors were consolidating their positions near the Leaky Cauldron pub, trapping the enemy in cross-fire, with more coming in.

But the Dark Lord was not yet out of tricks.

"Bogies in the air, nine o'clock!" Angelina shouted from her window, casting a shield charm to block an incoming curse. "Broomsticks and Dementors!"

Fred was cranking down the last rounds of boomjuice in the magazine towards the advancing Death Eaters when George acknowledged Angelina's shout and was already responding to the new threat.

The Wheezer had it's origins in the twins' fireworks experiments, and when the weaponized version first made it's appearance in their imagination, modified fireworks were the first choice of ammunition. Fred was barely finished relocating the Wheezer on Angelina's window when George came back with half a dozen of filled magazines.

"Budge over, brother!", he said, slamming the first one in the Wheezer and nudging Fred away from the crank. "It's my turn."

The Weasley Whizzbang Special Anti Air Ordnance had none of the finesse of the more festive fireworks of the product family. There were no whizzing noises, no fancy animated figures, no vibrant colours. Instead there was a loud bang followed by a hail of blindingly bright pellets of magnesium, burning at over three thousand degrees celsius.

The first magazine of twenty was empty in less than ten seconds as George cranked the Wheezer with reckless abandon. Screams of pain filled the air above the Alley as the fliers took hits from the burning pieces of metal. More than one broomstick was already out of control as their twigs had caught on fire, and a direct hit on one of the dementors proved that the cold guardians of Azkaban prison weren't completely immune to fire. The unholy screech of the creature when it lit up like a torch was enough to halt the fighting in the alley, until another burst of Whizzbangs flew out of the twins' window towards the fliers, re-igniting the battle.

- O -

The Room of Requirement was a mess. The camouflage hiding the prepared positions was blown asunder, and the floor was littered with fallen death eaters and broken shards of wood and metal. Voldemort was kept pinned down under his shield by ten wands, while the rest of the DA was picking up the rest of the attackers one by one. But the trolls were proving to be a tougher opponent, most spells splashing impotently against their tough skin.

"Trolls are resistant to magic," Ron shouted, and levitated a fallen bust of some long dead and forgotten wizard. "Use blunt force to knock them out!"

A banishing charm propelled the statue towards the nearest of still standing trolls, and a sickening crunch of cracking bone marked the death of the creature as polished marble proved to be stronger than it's thick skull. The gargantuan beast stumbled, it's feet not yet realizing the smashed condition of it's brain, before it ever so slowly fell down face first, crushing one of it's handlers under it's massive weight.

- O -

The situation in Godric's Hollow was dire. The sheer number of attacks, feints and counterattacks meant he aurors were scattered all over the country, and when Tonks had called for reinforcements all Amelia could spare was the remainings of a squad that had lost two of it's members in the opening assault against the Diagon Alley.

Remus and Tonks were fighting against five foreign wizards, their backs protected by the enchanted stone of the Potter memorial monument in the middle of the Village's main square.

There was no trace of the usual jovial Tonks in sight. The heart shaped face and bubblegum pink hair had been replaced by a look that betrayed the family connection to the Blacks: black hair was flowing in the wind, piercing purple eyes shining with such fire that the death eaters more familiar with Bellatrix Lestrange refused to engage her in fight. But Remus wasn't a much easier opponent. The Full moon was only hours away from rising above the horizon, and the wolf was close to the surface, urging him to fight harder to protect his pack.

Suddenly a glint of silver in the background caught Remus' attention. A guttural growl erupted from his throat as he recognized the man, his eyes taking golden hue as the wolf broke free and took over from the man, lust for vengeance replacing the more human restrictions.

"Wormtail!" he shouted, leaping forward with inhuman strength and speed, throwing the death eater he had been dueling with away with a swipe of his wand. "You have some nerve showing yourself here of all places!"

Pettigrew took one look at the charging werewolf, before turning to flee. But there was no time: before he had time to fully transform, the claws of the wolf met the soft flesh of the rat, and the animagus impacted the low stone wall surrounding the Potter cottage with enough force to crush his skull. Pettigrew slumped down, forever locked in a grotesque half-man-half-rat state.

The death eaters looked in shock at the swift demise of one of the Dark Lord's favourites, before they noticed the new situation they were in: between a furious metamorphmagus and a bloodthirsty werewolf, one that was seemingly in full control of the beast, something only Greyback was rumored to have accomplished.

- O -

Harry was worried. So far the plan was working fine, and even the unforeseen factor of the trolls had been dealt with without much trouble. But the dome-like shield Voldemort had erected around himself straight in the beginning showed no sign of breaking, even though the DA was still throwing spells at it in a steady stream

Harry could see that soon frustration at the lack of results would lead to mistakes. And one mistake would be enough for Voldemort to turn the tables and move into attack. Harry knew that could only end up badly. If only there was a way to break that shield…

Harry's eyes hardened, and his grip on his wand changed subtly as grim determination grew in his mind. There was only one thing left to do, even if it meant forgetting the original plan. "Avada Kedavra!" he bellowed over the incantations of the other students and the noise of spells impacting Voldemort's shield.

A green bolt of magic flew towards Voldemort, slicing through the shield like it wasn't there, and hit him squarely in the chest. He doubled over, the shield flickering as the concentration needed to maintain it faltered, but then, in front the disbelieving eyes of everyone, he rose back up. And laughed.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he mocked, eerie silence hanging in the Room of Requirements as the students were looking uncertainly at each other and contemplating fleeing while they still could. "Finally falling for the temptation of the Dark Side? But too late. You clearly lack the conviction to use what is rightfully yours. Such a shame, really; you could have been a great wizard. Together we could have ruled the world."

Voldemort raised his wand. "But you made your choice. Now there is only death for you. Avada KedaAAH!"

The incantation of the killing curse was interrupted as two spells hit Voldemort from behind. A vicious blasting curse blew his wand arm apart below the elbow, while his legs were cut clean through by a fiery blade of magic. Harry looked up from his fallen nemesis, and across the clearing Neville and Daphne were standing tall, Neville's wand still smoking slightly from all the magic he had channelled through it.

Harry looked back at Voldemort, who was twitching on the ground in the middle of a growing pool of blood, trying and failing to get up with only his left arm. The original plan came back to him like a ocean wave rushing to the shore.

"Don't you dare to die on me now!" he shouted, leaping over the slightly scarred stone slab that had covered him and slowing down his descent with magic. "This time there will be no resurrection for you. Hermione, help me!"

But the bushy haired witch was already climbing down from her battlement, always one step ahead of the others. She quickly shot a couple of cauterizing spells taught by Madam Pomfrey, stopping the free flow of Voldemort's blood.

The dark lord looked pathetic, his snake-face in a rictus of pain, only the stump of one arm remaining, the other slick with his own blood as he tried to reach his fallen wand. The fallen enemy continued to glare hatefully at Harry, which played right into his plan.

"We got you now," Harry said, training his wand at his nemesis. "And this time you won't be getting back up." With a wide movement Harry whipped his wand in a half-arc before bring it back down on Voldemort. "Obliviate!" he shouted.

The spell that lept forward from Harry's wand was bright enough to force the members of the Defence Association to shield their eyes.

- O -

Narcissa stood next to her dresser, holding at a photograph of her and Lucius, taken shortly after their wedding. They were both smiling, and her hair was floating freely in the wind. She wiped the picture of her late husband with her thumb, before setting the photo back down. She took one last look over her bedroom, lingering slightly longer at the photo, and drew her wand.

Narcissa made a few experimental swishes with her wand, before starting chanting with a harsh voice. The curtains flanking the window were the first thing to catch on fire, her bed and tapestries hanging on the walls following soon after. Fiery snakes and dragons were circling Narcissa when she finished the chant, cold spring air rushing in through broken windows feeding the flames. She shook her head slowly, and apparated away.

Only squirrels and a curious owl in the nearby forest witnessed the haunting scream that echoed around the manor grounds as the last remainings of the Malfoy legacy burned down to ashes.

- O -

The situation at St. Mungo's Hospital was chaotic. Patients were coming in from all over Britain, injured aurors, civilians and death eaters came or were brought in, with occasional muggle mixed in. The receptionists had been killed by Bellatrix and her accomplices, so it fallen to Dumbledore to keep order in the lobby, taking care no one was abandoned in the chaos and that everyone was cared according to their needs. He had even personally dispelled a few more obscure curses, doing what Harry had asked and saving as many people as he could.

He had just guided a pair of aurors carrying the injured squad member when a silvery otter swam into the lobby through the wall.

"Headmaster, Voldemort has fallen. Hogwarts and the students are safe," it said to Dumbledore, loud enough for onlookers to hear too, "The war is over!"

A cheer echoed through the building as the news spread from mouth to mouth. The mood in the hospital visibly lifted as everyone continued working on their tasks with redoubled intensity.

- O -

Amelia Bones rode down towards the ministry atrium with a force of veteran aurors surrounding her. She had just received a message from Harry that Voldemort was contained, asking for an escort to the Department of Mysteries where they would throw him through the Veil of Death. Amelia had already sent two unspeakables to Hogwarts, but before she could go herself, she had to take care of the uninvited visitors contained within the atrium.

The doors of the elevator opened, and the aurors fanned out, casting patronus charms to help those already in there to contain a flock of dementors huddled in one corner of the large hall.

Amelia marched imperiously forward and addressed the dementors. "The leader of your rebellion has failed," she said. "Your rebellion has failed. Now you must either surrender and agree to return to Azkaban, never to leave the island again, or we will force you into submission and lock you down in the most miserable dark hole we can find. And by Gods I swear that I will not rest until we find a way to eradicate your wretched kin from the face of the earth if you so choose."

The tension between the dementors and the minister was palpable, until the dementors bowed their heads as one, accepting defeat.

- O -

In Diagon Alley the Weasley Wheezer had run out of ammunition, but not before all airborne enemies had been either shot down or forced to flee.

The entrance to Knockturn Alley was a mess. The flagstones on the street had been blown to pieces, one of the corner houses was burning, and the other in danger of collapsing any moment. Lolling around in the rubble was some unknown kind of green slime, born from a freak reaction between some of the Weasleys' more imaginative munition and the wares from the apothecary located in the structurally compromised building.

The battle had reached a stalemate. More aurors had arrived to fill the gap left by the Wheezer, while the Death Eaters and other thugs had retreated to the shadows of their alley, neither side willing to cross the cratered terrain and unpredictable slime to gain decisive victory.

To this war-torn scene arrived a silvery lion, it's mane billowing in ethereal wind.

"By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic I order you to stop the fighting," the guardian spirit said with the booming voice of Rufus Scrimgeour.

"The terrorist leader calling himself Lord Voldemort is in the custody of the Ministry. If you surrender now, you will be shown leniency until such time when fair trials can be arranged. Should you choose not to surrender, the ministry will come after you with all it's might and with extreme prejudice.

"You have one hour to find an auror to surrender yourselves to."

- O -

Only fifteen minutes had passed since Voldemort had been defeated, but the Room of Requirement was already almost unrecognizable. Bright lights illuminated the place of ambush, and aurors were securing the Death Eaters and clearing the debris left by the battle.

Harry had left a bit earlier with a pair of unspeakables taking Voldemort's barely living body with them to the ministry, and Daphne had also rushed away to make some final arrangements. Neville shook his head in amusement. She would probably be telling everyone how Harry had defeated Voldemort, again, and arranging the press to come to the victory party. Harry wouldn't like it, but he would do whatever his girl asked him to.

Various emotions were evident on the faces of the remaining students, some in shock from the violence of the battle, others trying to figure if they should celebrate or try to help the aurors. Neville turned around as someone touched his shoulder from behind.

"Yes?" he asked, "What is it, Hannah?"

The Hufflepuff nodded towards the corner where the prisoners were being held. "Bellatrix survived," she said hesitantly.

Neville looked at the downed woman with disgust. She was sitting among the blood and debris covered by a squad of aurors, cradling her brutally wounded arm against her stomach and swaying slightly. Neville could see her mouth moving silently as she stared off into nothing. The most devoted death eater was muttering incomprehensibly, not quite understanding that her master had been defeated.

"She's not worth my time" he said, shaking his head and turning Hannah away from the carnage. "Let the aurors take care of her; with the current administration she's as good as dead anyway."

"You're right," Hannah said, letting Neville guide her between the piles of broken equipment towards the exit of the room. "And I'm happy that you can be the better man."

Neville and Hannah walked in silence, greeting the aurors hurrying past them with a nod. They were about halfway to the exit when Neville suddenly stopped.

"What is it?" Hannah asked. "Did you forget something?"

Neville shook his head. "I just had a thought," he muttered. "_The Power he knows not. _But it can't be. Can it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Voldemort. He was obliviated, Harry obliviated him. So _The Power he knows not, _it can be anything, right?"

Hannah looked at Neville, not understanding what he was talking about.

"I guess… What does it mean?"

"It doesn't matter now. It's just that if it is so, Harry is going to be damn angry at Trelawney when he comes back."

"If you say so," Hannah agreed uncertainly. "Let's go down and help Daphne to get the party started. The students need someone to cheer for, and with Harry away that job falls to you."

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: And that was the final battle! Only epilogue to go, and then it's done. Many thanks for reviews, and even more to my beta Majerus, who went above and beyond the ordinary call of duty by volunteering to help me polish these last chapters with amazingly short notice.


	26. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

-o0oOo0o-

The halls of Hogwarts had a very different atmosphere in the summer than during the school term. Absolute silence hung over classrooms and there was no one rushing about, late for an afternoon class. Even the moving staircases had settled down in positions that allowed the easiest access from the few areas in frequent use. Rays of sunlight could be seen in the slightly dusty air, and even the magic of the castle itself felt different without all the disturbances from hundreds of students running around doing magic. All in all the feel was almost sacred.

Harry Potter walked through these empty hallways towards the hospital wing, where he had been summoned by professor McGonagall. Albus Dumbledore was dying, and he wanted to have a final conversation with Harry.

Harry greeted Madam Pomfrey silently as he entered the infirmary. Dumbledore lay in a bed at the far end of the large room, where more room had been cleared for armchairs and a small table filled with flowers and some books. Harry noticed that the Headmaster looked every bit as old as his venerable years, and his previously healthy looking white hair had started to get thinner. The long white beard was still there, though, resting on top of the blankets.

Harry stood by the bed for the longest moment, just looking at the old man. Even the Headmaster's amazing senses seemed to have lessened, as he didn't seem to notice Harry's presence.

"I am here, Headmaster", Harry finally said.

Dumbledore slowly opened his eyes, and a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Ah, Harry, my boy, I'm glad you could come."

The two looked at each other, both expecting the other to start speaking. Finally Dumbledore looked away, and a sigh escaped from his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, for everything I did. I truly believed that it was the best thing I could do, but now I'm not that sure anymore. Laying in bed just thinking, without anything that really needs attention, allows one to find whole new perspectives. Even for someone as old as I am. Still I am happy that you became the young man you are now; even if it was regardless of my actions, and not because of them."

Harry considered Dumbledore's words. So much of what had gone wrong in his life seemed to someway or the other lead to the old man laying in front of him. Still he couldn't find himself getting angry at him. The real issue was the wizarding world's inability to handle their own problems and dependence on strong leaders that had led Dumbledore to the position where he had been able to make those mistakes.

"I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive you", Harry said finally. "But I'm prepared to let things be as they are."

"But I don't think I'll be able to feel truly sorry that you're dying, either", Harry continued, pausing to consider whether or not to say the next thing that was on his mind. "I could say that it is for the Greater Good, that it is time for new people to step into your shoes. But I'm not that cruel. Nor do I believe that I will ever be able to say what the Greater Good really is. Maybe there isn't even such a thing, and we should focus more on the lesser goods."

Dumbledore looked utterly defeated, and didn't say anything. Harry was looking at the table next to the Headmaster's bed. The man was still hugely popular, and there were a lot of letters from friends and allies. His death would truly mark the end of an era, and Harry simply hoped that the next one, where he had found himself at the center of, would be better than the last. Dumbledore's era was one filled with war and hardship, hopefully the next would be more peaceful. At least Harry was working to change the community so that starting an open war wouldn't be so easy anymore.

"You know", Harry started again, "I recently intercepted a draft for a book that Rita Skeeter is writing. 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore', I believe that was the title. There were some interesting implications about you and Grindelwald; Skeeter had interviewed some old lady in Godric's Hollow."

Harry watched the old Headmaster as he spoke, and the way he averted his eyes told him everything he needed to know.

"I will try to stop it from ever being published. I don't like you, but I still respect what you have achieved. And I don't think anyone deserves to have their name dragged into the mud by that woman. To be honest, I'm viewed as your unofficial apprentice, and as Daphne pointed out to me, anything that shows you in bad light will reflect on me, too."

Harry let the not entirely selfless motives of his actions sink to the old mans brain.

"But you know as well as anyone that the truth has a habit of rising to the surface, no matter how deep you bury it," he finished.

Dumbledore nodded, part acknowledging the truth of Harry's words, part from gratitude. He had his personal journals and correspondence from his long career as a Hogwarts teacher and Headmaster stored in his quarters, and he had left them to the school in his will. Hopefully someone truly interested in history and not scandals would someday find them and write a biography.

"Thank you, Harry, for coming," he said finally. "It is not often that people talk to to me as honestly as you have done today. They still see me as the defeater of Grindelwald, and all the different honours I've been granted. I think you might be the only person alive to truly understand how it feels to have the world's expectations on your shoulders. I just hope that you will succeed in filling those expectations better than I did."

"So do I, Headmaster, so do I."

Harry turned and walked away. When she had delivered Dumbledore's invitation Professor McGonagall had told him that they didn't believe the Headmaster would make it to the start of the new term. She had also presented Harry with the badge of the Head Boy, that he had gratefully accepted. Hermione would be the Head Girl, just like she had hoped from the first year.

Harry looked at the door of the infirmary, where his beautiful fiancée was waiting. Daphne was wearing a flowing summer dress that reminded Harry of the birthday party a year ago when they had first gotten together. She was truly the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he still didn't believe how lucky he had been.

He gave her a small hug and a peck on the lips, and the two started their walk out of the castle, hand in hand. It was a sunny and warm summer afternoon, and life was looking good.

-o0oOo0o-

THE END

-o0oOo0o-

A/N: That's it, guys. Never would have guessed this story would gather such following, or that it would grow to such length. Writing this has also been a huge learning experience, and I hope some progress in skill can also be seen as the chapters progress.

Writing this story took me almost two years, something I never expected when I started writing. For example this epilogue has been ready in more or less identical form since around April 2012, and it was originally intended to be something like chapter 10. That's why I'm unsure if I want to start something like this again. But there are a few ideas bouncing around in my head (and on paper) that might force themselves out at some point.

And finally lots of thanks to everyone who has taken their time to review my story, as those alerts arriving to my e-mail have been a constant reminder that I have done something right and that people enjoy what I have written. Also special thanks to Majerus, who helped me along for the later half of the story.


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